


I Am Made of Memories

by fancyh



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Merlin, M/M, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-23 04:10:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 41,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13779402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancyh/pseuds/fancyh
Summary: Set after The Disir. Merlin has become hopeless and bitter, no longer believing that magic will ever be free. Weighed down by the choices he has made and destiny, he has to face the darkness he feels in himself. Arthur, noticing how changed Merlin has become, sets out to finally fathom him out. Truths will be revealed and hearts broken as Arthur and Merlin struggle to fulfill their destiny and find their place in a world full of hatred and fear.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Canon up until The Disir, but Arthur and Gwen were never in love. Gwen and Lancelot were, but Arthur made Gwen queen because she is a valued advisor and strong leader. She will get her own love as well- Lancelot was restored by Merlin after Morgana raised him but the price was his memories of Merlin's magic- and her friendship with Merlin will not be discarded like in season 5.

Merlin walked briskly through the castle, navigating the corridors automatically without paying much attention; lost in thought. The first rays of sun were just peeking over the horizon, painting the castle walls in soft brushstrokes of color. The door to Arthur's chamber creaked softly as Merlin pushed it open, the room still dark and quiet and it's occupant sleeping soundly in his bed of resplendent Camelot red. Setting the breakfast tray on the table, Merlin moved to open the curtains, letting the warm spring sunlight stream into the room and fall across Arthur's sleeping form. A beam caressed his face, untidy blonde hair gleaming golden in the light as motes of dust danced in the air above him. Merlin paused in his movement to wake, hand hovering as if to stroke the soft strands of hair from his forehead. A deep wistfulness filled his eyes and his face softened. Arthur grunted and twitched in his sleep. Merlin snatched his hand back, face carefully blank once more and eyes filled with undefined emotion. 

He turned away as Arthur started to rouse, tidying a few things up. The clothes on the floor were picked up and put in the laundry basket, various odds and ends unceremoniously kicked under the wardrobe or stuffed in chests. Gods knew Merlin was a terrible servant, but Arthur hadn't truly cared about that in years. They were friends, if unlikely ones, although the thought only drove a stab of ice through Merlin's chest nowadays. What kind of friend lied about themselves for ten years? What kind of friend had done so many terrible things they wondered if they were even good anymore? Merlin pushed those thoughts down deep inside, deciding to resolutely ignore them. He mustered up a smile as he turned back to Arthur, now fully awake and yawning as he blinked blearily at Merlin. 

"Rise and shine!" he said cheerily, the familiar phrase bringing an expression of fond annoyance to Arthur's face. "Lots to do today; there's the speech for the Guild of swords smiths- which I wrote for you last night, you're welcome- then a council meeting, then training with the knights, then you're to hear grievances, and finally we have dinner with Gwen and Lancelot."

Arthur groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "I've been king for three years now and it never gets easier. Why Merlin, why?"

Knowing Arthur was just being dramatic, Merlin went to physically pull him out of bed. "Amazing, it's almost like having a real job, isn't it?" he said sarcastically.

Arthur gave him a death glare tempered by a quirk of his lips. "And what would you know of it, Merlin? You never do any work!"

Merlin glared back. "I do more work than the rest of the kingdom combined! You wouldn't last a day without me!" HIs words brushed too close to the truth, that dark place inside his heart twisting in discomfort. He quickly schooled his expression into one of humor.

Arthur simply grinned and clapped Merlin on the shoulder. "I really should make you court jester, Merlin." He sat down at the table and started picking at his breakfast, looking over the speech Merlin set before him as he ate. He waved at the chair across from him, indicating Merlin should sit, and slid over more seemingly never ending reports and documents. Merlin curled up into the chair opposite and grabbed a piece of bread from the tray, munching on it as he read over the latest report on the grain stores. Occasionally, Arthur would make notes in the margins of the speech Merlin had written, and Merlin would scribble some figures on a spare sheet of parchment. They slowly worked their way through the breakfast tray together as they worked, and the morning passed in comfortable silence only broken by the occasional scratching of a quill or shuffling of papers.

For a little while, everything was peaceful and perfect. Merlin pushed all his dark thoughts and despair away and just focused on the moment, on this perfect bubble of serenity he and Arthur had carved out. He didn't think about how he had sealed Arthur's fate with the Disir. He didn't think about the looming threat of Mordred, or that he was still hiding his magic. He didn't think about how, sometimes, he understood Morgana perfectly. He allowed himself to be immersed in the work and soon all other thoughts disappeared, his only concerns calculating the grain stores for the year and reading dull reports. The mind numbing figures and steady presence of Arthur, safe and whole and sleep-rumpled, helped to soothe the festering storm inside him. For the first time in a while, he felt free.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner that night with Gwen and Lancelot was the first time that Merlin had gotten to rest all day. Arthur had had a busy day and therefore Merlin had been even more busy, running around doing background work and of course making sure no one tried to kill Arthur. It was a sad fact that assassins were like fleas in Camelot, and Merlin had gotten tired of constantly thwarting another attempt on Arthur's life while Arthur continued to be blissfully unaware. Thankfully, there had been no attacks that day, but that didn't mean it had been easy by any stretch. No, now that Merlin was not only Arthur's servant (as well as Gauis' apprentice) but trusted advisor, that meant his duties had more than doubled. He was grateful to Arthur for the honor and recognition, but he didn't think Arthur quite understood just how much he had to do. This dinner with Gwen and Lancelot would be a chance to finally eat something since breakfast and sit down.

However, the dinner would not be without it's trials. Being around Lancelot, even after three years, still sent a stab of pain through Merlin. When Lancelot had returned from the dead those three years previous, summoned by Morgana for nefarious purposes, it had taken all of Merlin's skill to undo her dark magic and restore Lancelot's soul. However, it came with a price. Lancelot did not remember Merlin's magic. While his memories of Camelot were muddled but there, his memories of Merlin's magic had been stripped away in payment for his soul, and Merlin could not put the burden of knowing on his shoulders again. Lancelot was the noblest of them all, and to have to keep Merlin's secret, especially from his King, was too much to ask. He had already died for Merlin once, and he wouldn't let it happen again. He couldn't do that to Gwen. So he buried his pain and treated Lancelot like anyone else, laughing and playing the fool while inside his heart yearned for his confidante, his truest friend.

Gwen and Lancelot had gotten married soon after he had returned. Arthur had already raised Gwen to the status of advisor by that time, but it was a simple leap to make her Queen and Lancelot Queen Consort. Not subscribing to the traditional notions of King and Queen, Arthur said that there was no one else he would rather have succeed him if he were to fall. Guinevere was one of the best Queens the land had ever known and Lancelot the best Knight and protector anyone could want. The land was flourishing and they had had unprecedented peace in the three years since. Merlin thought darkly that they should have known it was too good to last.

As Merlin and Arthur sat down to dinner across from Lance and Gwen, Gwen shot Merlin a smile. Happiness had brought back the sparkle to her eyes that had faded when Lancelot died, and with her finery and elegant features she looked every inch the Queen she was. But when she smiled at Merlin, it was like they were young again, just two awkward servants who had formed a fierce friendship. He couldn't help smiling back, although it didn't quite reach his eyes the way it hadn't in months. Gwen, ever perceptive, caught this and frowned. She studied his face intently, brown eyes warm with concern. 

"You look tired, Merlin. Please tell me Arthur hasn't been running you off your feet again."

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders and trying to play it off as nothing. "When does he not?" 

Arthur rolled his eyes, reaching over to grab the basket of bread. He grabbed one and shoved it in his mouth, pushing the basket at Merlin. "I do not," he muttered indignantly through bites of bread, the words nearly unintelligible. He swallowed a rather large piece, washing it down with wine. "But you do look tired Merlin, eat something." He pushed another dish in the Merlin's vicinity. "You look like you haven't slept for a week. It won't do to have my advisor looking like some sort of ghoul while I'm trying to run a kingdom."

Gwen and Lancelot smiled at each other knowingly, recognizing Arthur's poorly disguised mother-hen fussing over Merlin for what it was. He'd long ago given up trying to pretend he didn't care about Merlin, but still could be incredibly obtuse about displaying his feelings. It was the worst kept secret in Camelot that Arthur and Merlin were in love, although Merlin had never let anything happen between them. Giving himself to Arthur when Arthur didn't know about his magic felt like a betrayal. So they existed in a state of sexual tension and platonic romance, neither one willing to voice the unspoken thing between them for fear of breaking what they had. Merlin was still his servant, but also Arthur's advisor and most trusted companion, and Camelot had long accepted the unconventional relationship between the two. It was just another thing that kept Merlin up at night tossing and turning with regrets. He would have felt touched at Arthur's fumbling concern, but he was just so tired. Tired of Arthur not knowing who he was. Tired of going through the motions everyday while nothing changed and people continued to suffer. Tired of pretending.

He gave Arthur a small smile and eye roll and accepted the food, making a show of piling it onto his plate. "I've just had a lot to do," he responded. "Gaius needs more help now that he's getting older, and between that and doing my other duties I'm a bit overworked is all."

Gwen's face smoothed in understanding. "Of course. I didn't even think about how much you have to do for Gaius and you're right, he's having trouble keeping up. Have you thought about hiring another apprentice to help Gaius now that you're an advisor?" 

Merlin nodded. "We're trying to find someone, but in the meantime I'm picking up the slack. I'll be fine once that's taken care of."

"I can't believe I didn't think about that before," Arthur said, frowning in confusion. "I sometimes forget you're a physician now as well. Why didn't you say anything?" He looked at Merlin searchingly.

Merlin shrugged. "I guess it didn't seem that important." It felt like a flimsy excuse. He had just gotten so used to not telling Arthur things that it became habit. Even more, helping Gaius wasn't the cause of his lethargy. The extra work was exhausting, but he could handle it. It was nightmares and feelings of hopelessness that haunted his every hour, making him into a hollow shell of despair and exhaustion. 

He realized he was sinking into his thoughts again and looked up to see the occupants of the table looking at him with thinly veiled concern. Arthur's searching gaze was edged with confusion and worry, as if he were trying to see into Merlin's mind. Merlin felt trapped, realizing he had let his carefully constructed mask of happiness and strength slip. He cursed himself for his weakness, shifting uncomfortably under Arthur's stare. 

Gwen seemed to realize his discomfort and intervened with a soft cough. "Well, now we know. Let me know if you need anything at all while you're dealing with this." While her words were final, her gazed promised Merlin that he wouldn't be escaping a talk later. He sighed in relief, nodding his thanks. "Thank you Gwen. I promise I'll let you know if I need anything, and keep you updated on the progress of the search. I know Gaius would love your input."

She smiled, apparently satisfied, and the strange moment was broken. Arthur still looked considering, but didn't say anything more on the subject and the conversation soon moved to lighter topics. They talked about the day's events, and Lancelot even told a story of how Gwaine tripped over a root and landed in a mud puddle that had everyone at the table roaring with laughter. It was nice to unwind after a long day with friends; to let loose and not worry about anything for a moment. Merlin let himself be swept up in their infectious mood for a little while, relishing in the comfort of good food and good friends. But every so often he would catch Arthur staring at him contemplatively, his brow creased with worry. The unsettled feeling in his stomach doubled and he looked away, trying to ignore the surreptitious glances. He had a bad feeling that Arthur had set his sights on him, and that like a dog with a bone he would not rest until he had unraveled all of Merlin's carefully wrapped secrets.


	3. Chapter 3

Contrary to popular belief, Arthur wasn't oblivious. He was, he admitted, a bit stunted when it came to emotions and tended to overlook those below him. But he had gotten better over the years, in large part thanks to Merlin. Maybe entirely due to Merlin, if he really admitted it. And therefore, he could tell that something was very wrong with Merlin. He had been wondering about it for a while now, but ever since the Disir he had become sure. He couldn't ignore Merlin's strange mood anymore. At the dinner table, there had been a moment when Merlin seemed lost in thought and the happy facade had slipped. His detached shrug when he professed that he thought his increased duties weren't important was worrying. Arthur had watched him surreptitiously the rest of the dinner, and saw that while Merlin laughed and smiled with the rest of them, they never reached his eyes. During conversations, when he thought no one was looking, his face would fall and blankness overtake his expression.

As he sent Merlin off for the night he sat at his desk, pondering what he knew. He had thought Merlin's reaction when he voiced his thoughts over the Disir was emotional because he felt guilty over condemning Mordred to death, but now he wasn't sure. Merlin, in fact, seemed to despise Mordred for no discernible reason. He wondered if it was the fact that Mordred was a druid. Merlin had always been strange about magic, seeming to encourage Arthur to use it on some occasions while seeming terrified of it on others. He knew Merlin's childhood friend was a sorcerer, and he had no illusions that Gaius didn't know how to do magic. He had made Mordred a knight knowing that he was a Druid and probably knew how to do magic. He had come to the belief that not all magic was evil, but was still wary of the misery and corruption unfettered sorcery could bring if he changed the laws. He had seen what Morgana turned into because of magic.

But why was Merlin so reticent about it? He had never quite understood Merlin, as the man was more mysterious than he had any right to be. He would seem overly emotional at strange times, but stoic at others. He acted like an idiot most of the time, but was also wise. He often disappeared for days and returned with shadows in his eyes. His loyalty and bravery rivaled the best of the knights, even though he was only a servant. He was simply a puzzle that Arthur had never solved.

He had long ago come to the conclusion that he loved Merlin, but that nothing could ever happen between them. Even if Merlin shared his feelings and although he had been granted the position of advisor, Arthur was still his master and king, and held the power of life or death over him. To make overt advances on Merlin would be to take advantage of his station and the fact that Merlin would feel pressured to say yes. Even though Merlin had no problem defying Arthur, he worried that if his advances were not wanted it would ruin the close friendship and trust they had built. He had made subtle advances over the years whenever his self-control was compromised, but Merlin's quiet rejections had solidified Arthur's belief that Merlin did not return his feelings. Merlin had seemed so hurt and saddened when Arthur had tried to drunkenly kiss him one night that Arthur had pretended he didn't remember the next day. So Arthur kept his feelings in check and contented himself with Merlin's friendship and solid presence at his side. His wisdom as Arthur's advisor was unparalleled and he offered such undying loyalty and support that Arthur thought he couldn't live without him. Giving him the Round Table seat at his right side had been only right after his years of service. Arthur couldn't recall anyone ever giving him the amount of loyalty and devotion that Merlin bestowed upon him, even if he sometimes annoyed Arthur to no end.

From their first meeting, Merlin had refused to bow to rank and stood up to Arthur, treating him like he would anyone else. At first it had infuriated yet aroused Arthur, who had never experienced such treatment, and from a simple peasant at that. Then Merlin had turned around and saved his life, and Arthur was stunned. They fought like cats and dogs at first, but there was a bond from the start. Barely months after Merlin became his servant he found himself risking his life to save Merlin, who had once again saved his life by drinking poison meant for him. From then it was a constant battle to save the other, and although Arthur pretended to disdain Merlin, who was truly a terrible servant, he couldn't imagine anyone else by his side. Jabs and insults were the only way that Arthur knew to express his feelings, and he heaped them on Merlin. His stupid, loyal servant, with his sharp cheekbones and crystal blue eyes that seemed to pierce his soul. Whose wisdom and idiocy both knew no bounds. Who cried over unicorns but tried to punch Arthur in the face on their first meeting. Merlin was made of contradictions, but Arthur had focused on the traits that made sense, pushing the others out of his mind. He ridiculed Merlin for his idiocy, as if that would make it true. Perhaps he didn't really want to know who Merlin was. Perhaps he wanted to pretend that he was just an incompetent but bold servant with no respect for rank. Over the years, Merlin had made him a better person, and he had mostly stopped treating Merlin so harshly and accepted the mystery that was Merlin. He still made the occasional jab, but he knew Merlin didn't take it seriously. He learned to show Merlin how much he valued him, raising him up in rank and relying on him. And as he changed, so did Merlin.

As the years wore on, the childish innocence that Merlin exuded had faded, although his bright grin and bumbling awkwardness remained. Only sometimes, Arthur would see something in him that was so deeply anguished and bitter that it terrified him. He had only caught glimpses over the years, but it niggled at his mind like a persistent itch. Before, he had tried to push it out of his mind. He convinced himself that he was seeing things, for what could make a simple servant feel that way? Again, he did not want to know. So he never asked, and put it out of mind. For his Merlin was happy and goofy and adorable. His Merlin was brave and loyal and honest, and his Merlin would never hide something important from Arthur.

But lately, he couldn't just ignore what was going on. The flashes of darkness he had caught were no longer flashes. Merlin exuded despair and a strange sort of quiet rage that unnerved Arthur. He had always thought of Merlin as, not weak exactly, but harmless in the way that a kitten would be. He had claws, but they were tiny pinpricks and he was more cute than intimidating. However, when he looked at Merlin now there was something almost...intimidating about him. He had certainly bulked up over the years, but he now carried himself with a confidence and grace that was jarring. Those beautiful blue eyes, once so full of light and mischief, were now cold and hard. Sometimes the sheer amount of seething anger in Merlin's expression made Arthur glad it wan't directed at him. It would pass at quick as it came, and Arthur would be bewildered by the feeling. Afraid of Merlin? He couldn't hurt a fly. _Oh, but he could_ , whispered a voice in the back of Arthur's head. _He's killed people before._ But Arthur had barely counted those times, when Merlin had hurt or killed someone in self-defense. Fighting was just part of Arthur's life, and therefore Merlin's as well. He had never thought about the fact that Merlin had actually taken lives while serving him. Now that he actually thought about it, it unnerved him. Could he have put that despair in Merlin's eyes? But no, something told him that that wasn't it. There was something else going on with Merlin, something so terrible that it had twisted his friend into a creature of misery and bitterness. A brief flash of Morgana crossed his mind. _No. That would never happen._ He pushed the ridiculous thought aside. He wouldn't let that happen. He would get to the bottom of what was affecting Merlin and solve it, he decided. He had had enough of Merlin's silent suffering. He could cover it up with fake smiles, but they didn't fool Arthur anymore. He was determined to finally unravel the mystery that was Merlin and save his friend from himself.

Rubbing at his temples to ward off the building headache, Arthur took a sip of wine from the goblet in front of him. No doubt if Merlin had seen him so lost in thought he wold have said something about how bad thinking was for him. He cracked a smile a the thought. Then he sobered abruptly, remembering the decision he had just come to. First things first: Merlin, Mordred, and magic.  _Huh,_ he thought.  _The three M's._ He huffed a laugh at his own joke.  _Morgana,_ his mind supplied. Arthur frowned at the intrusive thought, banishing it back to the depths of his mind. He was sure of three things. One, that something was wrong with Merlin. Two, that there was something going on with Merlin and Mordred. And three, that somehow it had to do with magic. He wasn't sure how he knew this, but deep down something told him that he was right. The affair with the Disir had left him feeling unsettled, and although he couldn't put his finger on it there was something off about the whole thing. In truth, he didn't know enough about magic to make a decision. He had learned all his life that magic was an evil force that corrupted those who chose to use it. But then he had seen it used to heal, and the Druids were a peaceful people. While he wasn't convinced of magic's benefits over evils, he knew he couldn't continue to fight blindly against it without first understanding it. Merlin would give him no straight answers, and he felt like there was a puzzle of Merlin, Mordred, and magic that he was just missing one piece to.

As he blew out the candles and got into bed, he crafted his battle plan. He would go to Mordred first and ask about magic. The young knight had always been forthcoming, and as a Druid he would have knowledge about the subject. Perhaps then he could determine what was going on between Merlin and Mordred, and fit those final puzzle pieces together.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day dawned bright and clear. Arthur was already up and dressed by the time Merlin came in with breakfast, sitting at the table and going over the morning's reports. He wanted to get a head start on the day if he was to enact his plan, and for that he would need Merlin gone. As Merlin pushed through the doorway he stopped in surprise, tray teetering dangerously.

"You're up!" he said, stating the obvious.

"Your powers of observation never cease to astound me," Arthur replied.

Merlin rolled his eyes, setting the breakfast tray on the table. "I wasn't aware you actually knew how to dress yourself, sire."

Arthur simply shrugged, popping a grape into his mouth. "You're such a terrible servant, Merlin, that I've had to learn. I can't be helpless every time you disappear suddenly, can I?" He studied Merlin's face intently, looking for any sign that his words had hit home.

Merlin's face darkened for an instant before he pasted on a smirk and raised his eyebrows. "Maybe that was my plan all along," he said with an air of superiority, crossing his arms and leaning his hip on the edge of the table.

Arthur huffed out a laugh, although internally his mental calculations were going haywire. "Ah, but you'd have to be bright enough to actually come up with that plan." He smiled to soften his words, eyes twinkling in merriment. Merlin simply scowled at him. "Anyway, I won't need you today. You said yesterday that you're trying to find a new apprentice for Gaius, so I've decided to give you a few days off to deal with that." He waved his hand to indicate 'that,' continuing to stuff food into his mouth nonchalantly.

Merlin stared at him as though he had just announced he was madly in love with Gwaine. "You're... giving me a day off?" he questioned suspiciously. "Who are you and what have you done with Arthur?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm not totally insensitive Merlin. I know you've been doing a lot for Gauis as a physician but he needs another apprentice. I would rather you find a good one soon so you don't have to keep splitting your time between him and me. Gods know your work is already terrible. And I'm not giving you a day off, I'm giving you _multiple_ days off."

Merlin looked like a fish for a second, mouth gaping open and eyes round in shock. He shut his mouth with a click, nodding abruptly. "Right, well, I'll just.. be going then. Let me know if you need me." With one last suspicious look over his shoulder, he turned and walked out of the room dazedly, not even bothering to wait for Arthur to dismiss him.

Once the door closed behind him, Arthur slumped in relief, letting out a sigh. Lying to Merlin was next to impossible, and he was sure Merlin would see right through him. Of course it helped that it wasn't quite a lie, but even so. If Merlin had any idea of what Arthur was planning to do, he'd probably try to tie him to the bedpost or some other ridiculous thing. And if he knew that Arthur was looking into him...Arthur didn't want to know what he'd do. Something about that thought scared him, though he couldn't say why. 

As soon as he had finished breakfast, he made his way to Mordred's chambers. Today was a rare free day in his schedule, and he planned to make as much progress as he could on  _The Three M's_ , as he had dubbed his battle plan. He knocked on the door lightly, hoping Mordred was up. The door opened slowly and Mordred peeked around it guardedly, his expression morphing into one of confusion as he took in Arthur.

"My lord?' he said cautiously, looking behind Arthur as if to check for guards. "Is something wrong?"

Arthur gave him a reassuring smile. "Nothing's wrong Mordred. Or, well, nothing serious. I hope." He trailed off, realizing Mordred was looking more and more nervous. He tried to rearrange his expression into one of neutrality. "I just wanted to ask your opinion on a matter."

Mordred blinked, seemingly taken aback at his statement. He recovered quickly. "I would be honored, my lord. Please, come in." He opened the door wider, gesturing for Arthur to enter.

As Arthur stepped into the room, he tried to stop himself from wringing his hands nervously. This was a delicate situation, and he wanted to hear the truth from Mordred. Mordred seemed to be just as nervous, offering him a chair and hovering as if he didn't know what he should do. Arthur waved at him to sit, contemplating his next words.

"Mordred, what do you know of magic?" He looked into Mordred's eyes, watching carefully for his reaction.

"M-magic, my lord?" Mordred inquired, voice rising in pitch as his eyes darted around the room anxiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Relax, Mordred, I am not here to accuse. I simply want to know more about it. I have realized that I am terribly ignorant in this regard, and knew of your background as a Druid. I thought you would be the most knowledgeable one to ask."

Mordred seemed to relax a bit, although the air of nervous tension about him remained. His eyes brightened as he leaned forward. "Of course, my lord. I am honored you came to me. What would you like to know?"

Arthur deliberated a moment, gathering his courage. "Everything," he said in a rush of breath. "What is magic? What is the Old Religion? Why do people use it?  _How_ do people use it? Is is good or bad? He exhaled, the questions that had been pushing at him finally in the open. "All I know of magic is what I have seen from sorcerers trying to kill me. If I am to guard against it or even decide what to do about it, I must understand it." He looked at Mordred, staring at him in utter shock. "Can you help me, Mordred?"

Mordred seemed to compose himself, straightening up in his chair and looking at Arthur with something akin to fervid joy in his eyes. "Yes, my lord," he said. "I will tell you everything I know about magic."

Arthur felt his body relax, realizing how much he had needed to hear that. For the first time in a while, Arthur felt like he was doing the right thing. He leaned back in his chair, gesturing for Mordred to begin. "Start at the beginning, Mordred. I want to know everything."

And so Mordred did. Shakily at first, and then with more confidence as he went on, he told Arthur of the Old Religion, of the old gods and how magic was the very fabric of the earth. How magic was as natural a force as the wind, bringing balance to nature and creating life and prosperity. How sorcerers could tap into that force through spells and incantations, but magic was only as good or bad as the person who wielded it. How sorcerers were born with the aptitude and it would often manifest through uncontrolled bursts of magic if they were powerful, but they had to learn to use magic. How most would never know they could use it, or could only do small spells. How having magic was something as innate and natural as the ability to swing a sword.

Arthur asked if Mordred could do magic and Mordred hesitantly admitted that he could, assuring him that he hadn't done any in Camelot but he had the ability since he was young. Arthur took this information in stride, as he had already guessed at this. Mordred talked of Morgana and her nightmares, fear turning to hatred and bitterness surrounded by those who would kill her for something out of her control. He had tried to skirt around the topic, but Arthur demanded he tell him the truth. He spoke of the Purge, and the hatred and fear of magic that followed. The slaughter of innocents, women and children thrown to the fire by friends and neighbors, Druid camps destroyed, streets lined with blood. As he listened, a tear slid down Arthur's cheek. For his sister, and how he had lost her forever. For the people that had been slaughtered in the name of Camelot. That were still hunted and persecuted under Arthur's reign. How could he have not known this? How had he never asked? He shook off his thoughts and tried to concentrate on what Mordred was saying.

As he explained that magic was learned but the talent inborn, Mordred paused, seeming conflicted "There is.. one, who didn't have to learn magic." He looked at Arthur and took a deep breath. "What do you know of prophecies, sire?"

Arthur frowned, confused. "I know.. Morgana could see the future in her dreams, right?" He looked to Mordred for confirmation and Mordred nodded. "And I know the Druids have legends they tell, but I've never really thought about it. Why?"

Mordred seemed to steel himself, drawing a deep breath. "The prophecies speak of one called Emrys. He is the greatest sorcerer ever to walk the earth, and his destiny has been written since the dawn of time. Together with the Once and Future King, he will unite the land of Albion and bring magic back to the land, uniting the old powers and the new." His tone had become reverent, as though he truly believed in what he was saying.

_The Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion._ Where had Arthur heard that before? And _Emrys_. He was sure he had heard the name before, but couldn't remember when. The knowledge eluded him, dancing just out of his grasp. He felt there was something he was missing about this, a feeling he was getting quite tired of. He decided to put off the whole  _Once and Future King_ thing for a moment. "What did you mean when you said he didn't have to learn magic?" he inquired, genuinely curious. Hadn't Mordred just said magic took years of study? How could someone be so powerful without learning magic?

"He was born with magic," Mordred replied. "There are some who say he is magic itself. He would have been able to do magic from the time he was born, without requiring spells or incantations. He is more powerful than any who have ever been and will ever be. He is Emrys."

"You say Emrys like it's a title," Arthur said.

"He has many names. Emrys is both his true name and a title. In the Druid language, it means 'immortal.'"

Arthur stared, stunned and a bit frightened. The idea of an immortal sorcerer with more power than anyone on the earth was terrifying. He could only hope he was not against them. Mordred had said he was allied with the Once and Future King... He steeled himself, dreading the response. "Mordred, who is the Once and Future King?"

Mordred looked up at him in mild surprise. "You are, my lord." He said it with such assurance it was as if there could be no doubt.

Arthur reeled, overcome with disbelief. "You mean to tell me I'm some king of prophecy and that there's an immortal sorcerer who will one day work for me? Why would a person who was born with magic ever ally himself with Camelot? We're not exactly friendly to his kind."

Mordred shifted and looked down, suddenly reticent. Arthur narrowed his eyes. "What, what is it?" he demanded.

"Well, it's not exactly  _one day._ Emrys already serves you."

If Arthur had been shocked before, it was nothing compared to this. He stared at Mordred for a good minute, unable to form words. A realization suddenly took hold. "You know him."

Mordred stiffened but didn't look at him. The realization deepened into knowledge. Arthur was suddenly sure. "You know who he is."

He got up abruptly and turned away, pacing back and forth behind his chair. On one hand, the fact that Emrys was apparently on his side was good news. On the other, he felt like everyone had been in on some joke about him that he never knew. Someone who was born with magic was serving him because of some old prophecy, while he continued to persecute magic users. It made no sense.

Mordred looked on with apprehension. "My lord," he said. "Know that my loyalty to Camelot has never wavered. Emrys has only sought to protect you. By protecting him I am protecting Camelot and the world that you will build. He will reveal himself when the time is right. Do not ask me to reveal him."

The latter was said with such seriousness that Arthur stopped pacing and looked at Mordred. His eyes were filled with resolute defiance, and Arthur suddenly knew that Mordred would break his oath to Arthur before he would reveal Emrys. He nodded in defeat. "I will not ask that of you. I know you are a loyal knight, and wouldn't do anything to jeopardize Camelot." He looked Mordred in the eye. "I am trusting you. Do not break that trust."

Mordred swallowed hard but nodded. Arthur rubbed his temples, his headache returning with the onslaught of information he had just learned.

"I will need some time to process this. I want to thank you, Mordred, for talking to me about this. I know it can't have been easy. Know that your secret is safe with me, and you will not face any repercussions simply for having magic or for protecting Emrys." Mordred seemed to slump in relief, his face smoothing out. "Would it be okay for me to speak to you on this more at a later time?"

"Of course, sire. I would be happy to speak more on this with you. You cannot imagine how much I have longed for this day." The admission seemed to slip from Mordred without his permission and he clamped his mouth shut, looking down.

Arthur felt a rush of sorrow and fondness for Mordred, who had faced persecution all his life for his magic. He resolved to make it so Mordred never had reason to fear him again. He squeezed Mordred's shoulder, trying to convey his gratitude and comfort the young knight. With a last nod, he left the chamber, feeling both burdened by grief and knowledge but freer than he had felt in years.


	5. Chapter 5

As Merlin wandered back to to the physicians quarters after the weird dismissal by Arthur, he pondered what he was going to do. Having actual days off was unprecedented, and he almost wished he didn't so he wouldn't be time to stew in his thoughts. He decided he might as well do what Arthur had suggested and find another apprentice for Gaius. Merlin had been Gaius' apprentice for years and was now in all rights a full physician, although everyone always seemed to forget that fact. However, his duties for Arthur took precedence, as Gauis knew, so he could never be court physician. Gaius was getting on in years and soon would have to retire, leaving no one to fill his position. They really should have thought about that earlier, but with everything that had been going on it slipped their minds. Besides, Merlin lived with Gaius because he could talk to him about his magic and ask for advice on how to defeat the latest evil that plagued Camelot. If another apprentice moved into Merlin's quarters Merlin's secret might be found out.However, there was nothing else to do. Arthur had offered Merlin new quarters adjoining his that better fit his station, and Gaius sorely needed someone to carry on his work. Merlin would just have to be even more vigilant now that he couldn't sneak out at all hours, and Gaius wouldn't be able to cover for him.

He mused about how to find an apprentice as he strode into Gaius's workshop, finding the man bent over a potion that was emitting worrying puffs of smoke. He looked up as Merlin entered the room, spectacles perched on his nose.

"Ah, Merlin, there you are. I fear I may have added a wrong ingredient to this boil potion." He peered at the now bubbling potion suspiciously, stirring it with a rod.

"Yes, I can see that," Merlin replied dubiously.  _Boil potion?_ He shuddered in disgust. "Arthur's given me the day off," he announced loudly, the potion now emitting a whistling noise.

"Whatever for?" Gaius asked, taking a cautious step away from the potion, which now resembled an erupting volcano.

Merlin hastily muttered a spell, the potion immediately calming and turning a light blue color. Gaius shot him a look for the blatant use of magic, his eyebrow arching dangerously on his forehead. Merlin simply sighed and plopped down on the bench, tired of being told to hide. Gaius' glare turned concerned. "What's wrong, Merlin?" he inquired with the air of someone who was used to things going wrong.

"Nothing," Merlin replied sullenly. "Arthur's given me a few days off so I can help you find a new apprentice."

Gaius brightened in surprise. "Well that's great news. Seems even the King noticed you've been walking around half-dead." He gave Merlin a quelling look when he started to protest. "Stop sulking and help me fix this potion. Then we can start on finding a new apprentice."

Merlin dragged himself off the bench and went to gather ingredients for a new batch, wondering if it would be easier just to drink the boil potion. Then maybe he'd have an excuse for people to leave him alone.

Later that day, Merlin and Gaius still hadn't had any luck finding an apprentice. They asked around the lower town, but everyone either already had a job or would be a terrible physician. They had had to make vague excuses and weak promises to contact them to a few people who were decidedly not fit for the job. Merlin shuddered at the thought of the one man who showed an entirely too great interest in examining dead people.

Gaius had headed back hours before to see to his rounds. Merlin was collecting herbs in the forest after a highly unsuccessful search all day. He had started to think they would never find someone for the job and he would have to do it himself when all of a sudden someone crashed into Merlin, knocking him to the ground. The breath rushed out of him with an  _oof,_ limbs flying as he and the stranger fell tangled on the ground. With great difficulty, Merlin extricated himself and staggered to his feet, panting. He offered a hand to the stranger, who took it hesitantly, murmuring an apology. The boy was young, with brown hair that fell in waves over a thin face. His brown cloak was ratty and torn at the edges.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," he mumbled, not meeting Merlin's eyes.

Merlin allowed himself a moment of suspicion before he chided himself. "That's alright, I wasn't either. No harm done."

The boy nodded, still appearing nervous. "Sorry," he repeated.

"I'm Merlin. What's your name?"

"It's Daegal," the boy replied. 

"You don't look like you're from around these parts. What brings you to Camelot?" It was only a hunch, but he was proved right when the boy stiffened.

"My sister is sick. I tried to help her but she needs a physician. I was coming to see Gaius."

Merlin smiled, his suspicion dissipating. "Well you certainly ran into the right person. Gaius is my mentor. I was just heading back to the physician's quarters. I'll take you there."

The boy gave a quick smile in response. "Thank you," he said, seemingly surprised by Merlin's offer.

With a jerk of his head in the direction of the castle, Merlin started walking, Daegal falling in step beside him.

"So, what's wrong with your sister?" He asked. "It must be serious for you to come all this way."

"She had the sweating sickness. She's only six," Daegal replied. "She's all I have left."

"No other family?" Merlin inquired.

"No. My mother is dead. My sister and I live in a little village about a day's walk from here."

Merlin nodded in sympathy. An idea struck him. "You said you tried to help your sister. Do you have any healing knowledge?"

Daegal shrugged. "My mum was a healer so she taught me a few things, but I couldn't do anything for my sister. I wish I knew more."

Merlin grinned. Maybe the gods hadn't abandoned him after all. "You know, Gaius is looking for an apprentice. If you wanted, the position could be yours."

Daegal stopped suddenly, forcing Merlin to pause and look back. "You mean that?" he asked hopefully.

"Every word," Merlin said. "You'll have to meet Gaius and we'll see what he thinks, but I think you would be a good fit."

They started walking again, but Daegal was still looking at him curiously. "Why are you being like this? People I've met- they're not like you. They don't care. I don't matter." He shrugged.

Merlin looked back over his shoulder. "I never think that. We all matter." 

Daegal gave a small smile. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"Come on," Merlin said, giving an encouraging jerk of his head towards the castle.

Merlin should have known his good luck couldn't hold. He had gone farther into the forest than usual, wanting to soothe his troubled mind with the peacefulness of nature. It was just his luck that he would run into bandits. Not paying attention, they had walked straight into their camp, hidden in a small valley. The bandits immediately started to encircle Merlin and Daegal like hungry wolves, wicked grins painting their faces. 

"Go," Merlin told Daegal.

"No."

"I can look after myself."

"I'm not leaving you."

"Get to safety."

Daegal didn't respond. The bandits closed in, sauntering forward with smug confidence. Merlin straightened, knowing what he had to do.

"If you value your lives, you won't take another step," he said. stripping away the mask of fear. The bandits came to a stop, disbelieving.

"What are you doing?" Daegal murmured.

"Trust me," he whispered.

Daegal dug through his pockets and produced a small sack of coins. "Here, it's all the money we have." He tossed it to the bandit leader who caught it, pointing his sword at Merlin.

"You, empty your pockets," he said.

"Last chance," Merlin said lowly.

Daegal shifted nervously.

The bandit sneered in disdain. "You don't even have a sword."

Merlin shifted his weight, staring at the bandit unemotionally. "I don't  _need_ one," he said. 

And then his eyes flashed and the bandit was thrown back through the air, landing with a thud. Daegal gasped in shock. The other bandits retreated hurriedly, not willing to go up against a sorcerer. Merlin turned in a circle, making sure they were all gone. His eyes flicked to Daegal, who was staring around him in disbelief.

"Come on, let's go," he said, wanting to keep going before the bandits decided to come back. He figured either Daegal would turn him in, or run screaming, or not. At this point he had stopped caring.

Daegal stumbled after him, still looking shocked. "You have magic, Merlin." He sounded surprised but not hostile.

"Yes."

"And you live in Camelot." His voice was disbelieving. "Does anyone know?"

"Only Gaius."

"Not Arthur?"

"No!" And if he ever found out, he'd probably hang me." The words rushed from him in anger, glaring at Daegal.

"But you still help him," Daegal questioned.

"I have to. It's my job."

"But he would kill you," Daegal said incredulously, face screwing up in confusion.

"In his heart, he's a good man," Merlin said harshly. "And I know that one day he'll bring about a world we all dream of." The last was said softly, rushed. He wasn't even sure if he still believed it anymore, or just said it by rote.

"It must be hard," Daegal said. He looked sympathetic.

Merlin chuckled darkly, looking down. Hard? Yeah, it was definitely hard.

Daegal looked at him for a moment before seeming to come to a decision. "I'll help you. Let me be Gaius' apprentice and I'll keep your secret and do whatever you need me to do. Please."

Merlin looked up, meeting his eyes. "I can't make you do that for me."

"I want to do it. I don't think I've done very many good things in my life. I want to finally do something good." He paused a moment. "My mother was like you. She had magic, and Uther killed her for it."

"I"m sorry." Merlin closed his eyes in sorrow for a moment. Would the sins of Uther Pendragon never be washed from the earth? He deliberated. If Daegal was Gaius' apprentice, he wouldn't have to worry about hiding his magic from him. Also, it would be nice to have someone else to turn to when he needed help with a magical problem. Finally, he nodded in acquiescence. "I would be glad of your help."

Daegal smiled, a real smile that lit up his face. "Thank you. You won't regret this."

As they continued walking to Camelot, Daegal asked questions about Merlin's magic and Camelot and Merlin answered as best he could. By the time they reached the physician's quarters, Merlin was fond of the boy and knew he had made the right decision. Daegal would make a good physician and an even better friend. For a moment, just a moment, everything seemed perfect. 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Daegal took to his new position like a fish to water. Merlin had filled Gaius in on the events in the woods, and although Gaius chastised him about revealing his magic he could tell he was pleased with the outcome. Merlin left with Daegal to treat Daegal's sister the next day, a small girl named Clara with similar wavy brown hair and light eyes. They stayed a few nights in the small village and then left for Ealdor once Clara was well enough. They had decided to bring Clara to Merlin's mother, where she could look after her while Daegal was in Camelot. Merlin had written his mother and she had agreed, saying she would be happy to take the girl in. The money Merlin sent home had allowed Hunith to live comfortably, and she would have no problem taking in another mouth to feed.

As Merlin approached Ealdor, he felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. It had been years since he had seen his mother, and he missed her more than he wanted to admit. She was the only one who truly understood him. Even Gaius had only met him when he was older, his magic already settled and fear ingrained. Hunith had been the one to have to hide him when his wild magic acted up, and had held him as he cried and wondered why he was different. She had withstood the terror of having a child born with magic in a world filled with hate and fear. But as he drew closer, Merlin wondered if she would even recognize her child now. She had raised him to be kind and compassionate, but he had never felt farther from those traits. Life had plunged a dagger into Merlin's heart and twisted until there was nothing else but pain and darkness. He had become ruthless, unfeeling; filled with so much rage that sometimes he wanted to watch the world burn. In his darkest moments, he terrified himself. He wondered if this was what Morgana felt, if he was destined to follow the same path. Sometimes he thought the world was right, that magic was evil. He had asked Gaius when he first came to Camelot,  _I'm not a monster, am I?_ and Gaius had scolded him. _No_ , he had said, _don't you ever think that_. But Gaius had been wrong in the end, Merlin thought. He was a monster, and Arthur his creator.

He was pulled out of his dark musings by a soft tap on his shoulder. Merlin startled, coming back to reality. Daegal had sidled his horse alongside Merlin's, his sister tucked in front of him. He motioned with his head to the village, where people were starting to come out of their homes at the arrival of the riders. Merlin straightened up in his saddle and gave his head a shake to clear it. He caught sight of his mother coming out of her house and smiled, watching as she spotted him. Her face split in a bright smile and her eyes lit up with joy as she pushed through the crowd to get to the front. As soon as Merlin pulled his horse up and dismounted she was running to him, enveloping him in her arms. He breathed deeply and hugged her back, relishing in the contact. She pulled back after a minute and scanned his eyes, placing her hands on either side of his face. "Welcome home, Merlin," she said. He smiled a real smile for the first time in months and hugged her again briefly. This time, she looked over at Daegal and Clara where they had dismounted next to Merlin.

"Hello, you must be Daegal." She smiled at him. Then she bent down to Clara's level. "And you must be Clara."

Clara smiled shyly and nodded, clutching Daegal's hand. Hunith straightened up, the last of the villagers dissipating around them after recognizing Merlin. With a wave of her hand, she beckoned them into her home. "Come on, I made you some food. You must be hungry after your long journey." Merlin accepted with a grateful nod, his mother's fussing soothing. They followed her into the humble house, where a table and chairs sat in the middle of the room, food heating over the fire on the opposite wall. The house was much bigger and nicer than it had been before, as Merlin's money had gone a long way to providing comfort. Hunith ladled stew into pewter bowls as they sat down at the table, the crackling of the fire and the clink of dishes lending a peaceful air to the house. They dug in ravenously, hungry after a long day of traveling.

After dinner, they got Clara settled in her new room, the girl tired from her recent illness and travel. As soon as she was asleep, the three sat at the table and talked into the night. Merlin told his mother all about Camelot, leaving out the terrible details and painting a picture of peace and prosperity. Daegal told her how Merlin had rescued him from bandits, and that he was going to be Gaius' apprentice. Hunith seemed happy to hear about Merlin's life, although he could tell she knew he wan't telling her everything. While Daegal was there, she did not ask. Eventually, Daegal went to sleep as well, setting his bedroll by Clara's bed, and Merlin and Hunith were left alone. He leaned into her and for a while they just sat there in comfortable silence, Hunith stroking his hair like she used to do when he was a child.

Eventually, she spoke. "Merlin, what's really going on? And don't try to lie to me, I'm your mother." Her sharp words were softened by her quiet tone and her hand continued to stroke through Merlin's hair.

He sighed, closing his eyes. "I think I've made a terrible mistake." His eyes started to water and his breath hitched. The hand stroking his hair paused and he opened his eyes. His mother turned to look at him, searching his expression.

"Merlin, whatever it is you can tell me."

And then it all came pouring out. About Mordred, about the vision of Arthur's death, about the Disir and his horrible decision, about how he felt trapped and alone and how magic was still illegal. He talked and talked until his voice was hoarse, and when he ran out of words his mother simply held him and kept stroking his hair. She murmured words of comfort, but didn't interrupt. Merlin had almost forgotten how starved for affection he was in Camelot. The only touch he had felt in forever was to wound, whatever assassin of the day he was stopping getting in a hit or spell. He had almost forgotten what it was to feel human contact that didn't hurt.

Only after his words and tears were spent and he had relaxed into his mother's hold did she speak.

"Oh Merlin," she said. "It is every mother's curse to bear the pain of her children. If I could take all your burdens I would do it in an instant," she whispered, hugging him tight. "But you are stronger than you know. Don't give up hope, Merlin. Believe in yourself, and in Arthur. You are like two sides of the same coin." She pressed a hand to his chest, over his heart. "You have a good heart, Merlin, remember that. So long as you trust in it you cannot lose who you are." She pulled him back in, pressing a kiss to his hair. They sat long into the night, pressed together, until Merlin had fallen asleep on her shoulder. Gently, she laid him down and spread a blanket over him, smoothing a hand over his forehead.

"Goodnight, Merlin," she whispered. "May the Gods watch over you."

Merlin slept on, for once undisturbed by nightmares. 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Once again, Arthur found himself sitting in his rooms thinking deeply. His talk with Mordred had left him with more questions than answers, and he didn't know what to do. Usually, he would turn to Merlin. However, there were two reasons why he couldn't do that. The first was that he was gone to treat the new apprentice's sister in some small village. The second was that he knew Merlin wouldn't give him a straight answer. There was something about Mordred and magic that set Merlin on edge, and until he figured it out talking to Merlin was not an option. Who else could he talk to? The answer struck him- Gwen. As Queen, she had a right to know anyway, and she was one of his most trusted advisors. She would know what to do. Decided, Arthur got up and went to find her.

He found her in the great hall, taking grievances. She and Arthur would rotate taking grievances so as to divide the load, and frankly Gwen was far better at it than Arthur. Her gentle demeanor set people at ease, and she had a fair and just heart. Just what he needed for his current predicament. As soon as she had heard the last person, Arthur approached her. She smiled , graceful and beautiful as always.

"Arthur, what can I do for you?" she asked pleasantly. The deep red of her gown set off her glowing skin and her hair was immaculately pinned back with an elaborate headband.

"Guinevere," he acknowledged. Arthur lowered his voice so it wouldn't carry. "I wish to seek your council on a delicate matter." 

Gwen frowned, looking concerned. Arthur looked around the hall before continuing. "Not here. Will you meet me in my chambers in a few minutes?"

She nodded, curious, but didn't press. "Of course, I'll be there as soon as I can get away."

"Thank you, Guinevere," he replied, relieved. Without further ado, he turned and strode nonchalantly from the hall, smiling at the courtiers as if he had just come in to watch the proceedings.

Making his way back to his chambers, he flagged a passing servant and asked them to bring up some food. Gwen would appreciate the sustenance after a grueling session at court. Reaching his rooms, he settled into a chair at the table as he waited. Soon enough, the servant brought up his food, bowing as he turned to leave. A knock came only moments later. 

"Enter," Arthur called.

It was only Gwen, who slipped into the room with a curious frown. She sank into the chair opposite Arthur, obviously exhausted but remaining poised. "Arthur, what's going on?"

He sighed, deciding to cut right to the chase. "I had a conversation with Mordred. About magic." He paused, searching for her reaction. 

She seemed a little taken aback but mostly confused. "Oh. What about it?"

He chose his words carefully. "You are aware that Mordred was a Druid, are you not?"

Gwen frowned, considering. "I guess I hadn't really thought about it before but yes, I do remember he was a Druid." Suddenly she looked up, alarmed. "Don't tell me that Mordred has been practicing magic," she said in dismay.

"No Gwen, but maybe he should be." The admission shocked them both and for a second they froze, staring at each other. Gwen's mouth was hanging open, her eyes wide in disbelief. Arthur couldn't believe he had just said that but.. he realized he meant it. He took Gwen's hands in his across the table. "Gwen, I asked him to tell me about magic, and he did. We've been wrong for so long. Magic isn't something to be afraid of. It is the very fabric of the world, as natural as the air we breathe, and we have relentlessly persecuted those who can wield it. Please tell me I'm not insane to consider accepting magic." He squeezed Gwen's hands in his, willing her to listen. 

Her eyes had softened during his speech, tears glistening in their depths. She took a breath, squeezing his hands back. "I think you're right," she whispered, as if terrified that Uther's ghost would suddenly swoop down and attack her. It wasn't such a ridiculous notion, Arthur thought. It had happened before, after all.

Gwen peered into his eyes. "Are you serious about this, Arthur?"

He nodded. "I am. I didn't even know it for sure until I told you, but I think it's the right thing to do. We have been blinded by hatred and ignorance too long. I want to make this a equal and just kingdom for all, and it can never be that while magic is feared." He clutched Gwen's hands tighter. "Think of how many less attacks there would be. No more sorcerers seeking revenge. No more being helpless against their power. The only way to fight magic is with magic. Think of all we could do with magic on our side."  _With Emrys on our side,_ his mind supplied.

Gwen looked astounded and happy. She looked at him and he thought that she had never looked prouder. "Oh Arthur," she said. "Tell me everything."

And so he did. He related Mordred's tales of magic and sorcerers, and Gwen cried tears of remorse over Morgana. She had watched her mistress be turned into the bitter woman she was today, and had always blamed magic for her change. Now, knowing that she had not chosen magic, and that it was fear and hatred that had changed her, Gwen felt a stab of pity and regret. They sat there together for hours as the sun set below the horizon, talking about magic and the future Arthur could begin to see, golden and glorious. Finally, they got to Emrys. Arthur related his frustration with not knowing his mysterious protector, and how he was supposedly this 'Once and Future King' of prophecy. Gwen listened with wide eyes, suddenly starting straight up and gasping. 

"What? What is it?" Arthur demanded.

Gwen turned to him " _Not even Emrys can save you now_. That's what Morgana said in the throne room when we took back the kingdom. And then her magic didn't work." Her eyes lit up. "It was Emrys," she murmured reverently. "We owe him our kingdom."

Arthur sat, stunned. That was it! That was where he had heard the name before. He couldn't believe he had forgotten that. That was years ago now, how many times had Emrys saved him since? How long had he been working in the shadows?

"Gwen," he said. "I have to know who Emrys is." He had to meet the man who was supposedly destined to stand by his side. He had to look into his eyes and ask him why. Why did he serve him? He had to know that Emrys wasn't just a man out for power, but someone who was honorable and just. He had to thank him for everything he'd done, and apologize for everything he'd endured. The desire overwhelmed him, burning in him with unquenchable fire. He would not rest until he had found Emrys and looked into his eyes. 

Gwen nodded. "What if he isn't on our side?" she asked nervously. "He could be dangerous. I can't believe he'd still help us all these years when magic is still banned."

"I don't know, Gwen," Arthur replied. "He certainly has no reason to trust us. But maybe if we start to change the laws on magic, he will come forward. Mordred said that he would reveal himself when the time was right."

Gwen bit her lip. "I can't believe Mordred knows Emrys. And he's protecting him." A sudden thought struck her. "He said Emrys had many names. What if it's someone we know? Hiding in plain sight?"

Arthur blinked. He hadn't even thought of that but it made sense. A small voice inside him whispered _Merlin._ It made too much sense. He shoved the thought away. It made him wary, knowing someone else he knew was lying to him. How many more betrayals would he have to endure? But he reminded himself that it wasn't a betrayal. He had been the one who persecuted magic, making it impossible for Emrys to come forward. He took Gwen's hand again. "Well, whoever it is, we shall find out soon enough. Emrys won't have to hide in the shadows any longer."

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur woke up to sunlight streaming in the window as Merlin's familiar form moseyed around the room, shoving the accumulated mess into various piles that seemed to have no order to them. Arthur smiled, not realizing how much he had missed Merlin until he was back. "Merlin, you're back!" He exclaimed, sitting up in bed and throwing the covers off.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Your powers of observation never cease to amaze me," he mocked, a smirk growing on his face. 

Arthur threw a pillow in his direction.

"What happened to your room?" Merlin exclaimed in disgust. "I was only gone a few days!" He continued his strange piling of Arthur's things around the room. Arthur had given up trying to understand how Merlin was so bad at cleaning.

Arthur didn't gratify him with an answer, instead pretending not to notice. He made his way over to the breakfast table and sat down, stuffing bread into his mouth while shuffling through the reports scattered on the table. Merlin continued to clean, every so often coming over to steal a bite off the tray, getting crumbs all over the floor that someone would inevitably have to wash. Merlin was no longer required to do the mundane chores like scrub floors, only attending to Arthur's personal needs like dressing, polishing his armor, and keeping the room neat. Arthur would have relieved Merlin of all his servant duties long ago, but he didn't trust anyone else to attend to him or touch his armor. Besides, he liked their time together, the little routines they had carved out that were just for them. Breakfast was one of these, and Arthur secretly loved their peaceful mornings together eating and going over reports. Sometimes he would get distracted from his reading and just stare at Merlin, tracing the contours of his face under his raven fringe. He had often thought there was something otherworldly about Merlin's features, something fey and almost inhuman in its beauty. The next instant he would snort at his wild imaginings. It was just Merlin.

This was one such time. Merlin finally finished his 'cleaning,' the piles of clothes seemingly vanished as if by magic, and sat down across from Arthur to finish breakfast. He nibbled on a scone as he read the latest grain report, his forehead furrowed in concentration. Arthur disregarded all thoughts of the patrols he was working on and just watched Merlin, continuing in his quest to figure him out. He looked marginally better than he had the last time Arthur had seen him. The shadows under his eyes had lessened and there was color in his cheeks, although he still radiated a gloomy aura. Well, Arthur decided. He had already sorted the last two M's of his plan, Mordred and magic. It was time to focus on Merlin.

Merlin had not yet moved into his new quarters adjoining Arthur's, and had apparently shared his room with Gaius's new apprentice last night when they got back. Arthur had briefly met the boy before they left- Degel, Dagal, something?- and thought he was fine if a bit shy. Merlin and he seemed to be fast friends already, which irked Arthur for some reason. He was looking forward to moving Merlin to where he could keep a closer eye on him. There was no time like the present, Arthur thought.

He cleared his throat. "Merlin, now that Gaius's apprentice is here we should move you into your new quarters. It's all ready to go, all you need to do is bring your personal items."

Merlin sighed, looking resigned. "Yeah, I guess I should." He picked at his breakfast listlessly, good mood evaporating.

Arthur almost felt bad at making him leave. He reminded himself that it was for the best. Merlin couldn't very well stay in Gauis's cramped quarters when there was someone else living there. Besides, now he would be closer to Arthur. He didn't know why that fact made him so pleased, or his stomach flutter with butterflies.

"Come on, Merlin. It won't be so bad. Now I can wake you up in the middle of the night to get things too!" He tried for levity.

Merlin simply grimaced, although he tried for a smile. Arthur's felt his smile fade. He knew what this was about. He stood up, clapping Merlin on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll see Gaius all the time. I'm not going to try and keep you away."

Merlin looked up, surprised. Arthur rolled his eyes but softened his voice. "I'm not totally insensitive Merlin, I know you've lived there for ten years. It's okay to miss it." He gave Merlin's shoulder another squeeze and Merlin rewarded him with a tentative smile. Feeling like he had accomplished something at last, Arthur smiled back. 

He suddenly became aware of how long they had been standing there staring at each other and how his hand burned where it grasped Merlin's shoulder. He gave a small cough and relaxed his hand, awkwardly patting Merlin on the shoulder before dropping it.

"Well, do you want to...?" He gestured towards the door. 

"Oh, yeah." Merlin seemed to come back to himself as well. "I'll get started on that. Do you need me for a while?"

Arthur shook his head. "Take as long as you need. I just have training with the knights and then grievances. George can attend me. Then we can have dinner with Gwen and Lance again tonight."

Merlin nodded, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the mention of George. "I'll leave you to your breakfast then, my lord." With a quirk of his lips he was gone.

Arthur smiled, throwing down his quill. His plan was going perfectly.

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Arthur didn't see Merlin again until dinner. After George had helped him bathe and dress, he had peeked into Merlin's new room to see his progress. The bed, larger than Merlin's current one, was piled with sheets and blankets. The cupboard stood open, revealing Merlin's clothes lining the shelves. Various objects adorned the nightstand, including a small carved dragon that caught Arthur's eye. He smiled, feeling Merlin's presence in the homey room. It would be comforting to know he was right here, safe and sound where Arthur could easily find him. No more disappearing to the tavern while Gaius made up excuses about herbs.

As he headed to dinner, he took a moment to feel pleased with the way the day had gone. He had had a needed training session with the knights, settled a few disputes, and managed to get Merlin moved in. All in all, a successful day and substantial progress on _The 3 M's- Merlin._ When he got to the dining hall, Gwen and Lancelot were already there, while Merlin was nowhere in sight. Arthur frowned, wondering where he was. He greeted Gwen and Lancelot with nods, Gwen giving him an extra bright smile. Since they had talked that one night, Gwen had thrown herself wholeheartedly into the magic issue, vowing to look over the old laws and see what changes could be made. They both admitted that they needed someone who knew about magic to help with the laws, though, and had hit a stumbling block in that regard. They wanted Emrys to help with the laws, but they needed the laws to find Emrys. There was no good solution.

Just as Arthur sat down, Merlin came jogging into the hall, his hair windblown and neckerchief in disarray. Arthur didn't know why he still insisted on wearing those ridiculous things, as he had offered him a perfectly respectable wardrobe as befitting his station. But no, Merlin continued to look like a homeless jester, the threadbare state of his neckerchiefs only adding to the image. Arthur sighed. He would never understand Merlin. 

"Nice of you to join us," he called, eyeing Merlin critically. There was a leaf stuck in his hair, dirt smudged on his jawline, and a small cut on his cheek as if from a blade. _What on earth has he been up to?_ Arthur wondered.

Merlin didn't reply to the comment, sliding into his chair with a poorly concealed grunt. His hand moved as if to grasp his side but immediately dropped into his lap when he caught Arthur looking. His eyes looked tired and haunted, his face struggling to maintain a neutral facade. Arthur met Gwen's eyes across the table. She looked just as worried and confused as him.

She reached across to take the hand that rested on the table. "Merlin dear, what happened?"

Merlin seemed to shrink under her scrutiny. "Oh," he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "I was picking herbs in the woods and tripped and fell." He swallowed convulsively, not making eye contact as he shifted in his seat.

Arthur wondered if Merlin had always been such a bad liar of if he was getting better at spotting them. He knew Gwen had caught it too, by the look she shot him across the table when Merlin looked down. Even Lancelot looked bewildered. For gods sake, he hadn't even answered the question. Tripped and fell? Arthur knew battle wounds. If any natural thing could make that gash on his cheek, Arthur would eat his socks. And no herb-gathering expedition could make Merlin look so haunted.

He wanted to press but the sight of Merlin sitting there, miserable and uncomfortable, gave him pause and tugged at his heartstrings. Resolving to deal with this later, he pretended to accept Merlin's ridiculous explanation.

"You idiot," he said blithely, ruffling Merlin's hair and plucking the leaf out. "I leave you alone for one day and look what happens."

Merlin ducked his head under Arthur's hand, cheeks coloring. Arthur and Gwen promptly had a silent but furious conversation via eye contact while Lancelot looked on in confusion, glancing from Arthur to Gwen to Merlin. It ended with Gwen glaring between him and Merlin as if to say  _fix it._

_I'm trying to,_ thought Arthur.  _Gods am I trying to._

 

As Merlin prepared Arthur for bed, he watched him carefully. He had spread salve on his cheek and the dirt was gone from his face but the haunted look remained. He moved stiffly, as though in pain, and wouldn't meet Arthur's eyes. He finished dressing Arthur with efficient movements, mumbling a "Good night, sire" before heading towards his own room. Arthur caught his arm gently, stopping him from leaving but Merlin didn't turn, frozen in place. Arthur walked around so he was facing Merlin and put a hand under Merlin's chin, tipping it up until he met his eyes. Merlin looked guarded and fearful, like a rabbit caught in a trap. His pulse quickened under Arthur's hand and he averted his eyes. 

"Merlin, look at me," Arthur commanded. Wide blue eyes slowly dragged themselves up to meet Arthur's, their depths glittering with emotion. There was a tempest there, just below the surface. Barely restrained floods of simmering rage and sorrow that drew the breath from Arthur as though he had been punched in the stomach.

He stroked his thumb across Merlin's chin in a soothing motion. "What's wrong?" he inquired softly. 

Agony briefly flashed across Merlin's expression before he shook his head, breaking Arthur's hold and backing up. "Nothing's wrong sire. I'm just tired is all." His face closed off, shuttering like steel gates. Without another word he turned and continued to his room, not bothering to be dismissed. The sound of the door closing felt like a finality, and Arthur was left alone in the room wondering how it had all gone so wrong. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

When Merlin had been given the day to move into his new chambers, he had expected it to be an easy day. Of course he should have known something would go wrong, for when was his life ever easy? With the help of Daegal and a little magic he had gotten his stuff moved in before midday, leaving the rest of the day free to do as he wished. He had just been about to go spend some time reading in Gauis's chambers when he had heard a frantic call in his mind. _Emrys, come quickly._ A Druid then. Sighing at his luck, he responded with a quick,  _Meet me at the edge of the Darkling Woods._ He made his way out of Camelot, skirting the guards by habit until he had reached his location. Experience taught him to be suspicious, and he circled around his meeting place to make sure there was no one else there. Satisfied for the moment, he hid at the edge of the forest until his caller revealed themselves. It turned out to be an older woman, face lined with age and gray hair hidden under her cloak. She stood for a moment at the edge of the woods, waiting.

Finally, she called out in his mind.  _Emrys, are you here?_

_I'm here._ Merlin stepped out from his hiding place, and the woman whirled around in alarm at his arrival. When she saw who it was she relaxed, hand over her heart. She bowed reverently, going to one knee. 

"Please, there's no need for that." He helped her gently to her feet. "Who are you and why did you call me?"

"My name is Finna, my lord," she said with another bow of her head. "I was sent by my master, Alator of the Catha."

Merlin's expression cleared, recognizing his old ally. While the man unnerved him and had tortured Gaius for information, be knew it was better to have him as an ally than an enemy. "Why did he send you?" he questioned. Something must be wrong for him to contact Merlin after so long.

"There is news of Morgana. People say she is building an army that will take Camelot if not stopped. They say she has gone insane, and will stop at nothing to see Arthur dead."

Merlin winced, knowing that to be true. No more was the ruthless yet intelligent sorceress. Instead remained a terrible insanity brought on by her two year imprisonment in the Sarrum's clutches. Where once there was hope for redemption, now it would be kinder to let her die. She hadn't deserved her torture, even with all the things she'd done. Deep down Merlin understood Morgana's rage and desire to see magic freed. But he would always choose Arthur.

Finna paused. "There is something else. She is searching for you, Emrys. I have not heard from Alator since I left and fear she has taken him in her mad search. You are in danger."

Merlin felt a chill run through him. If Morgana found about him all hell would break loose. She would stop at nothing to destroy him and then Arthur would be left vulnerable. Camelot would fall. He shivered involuntarily. "What can we do? I can't leave Arthur, as much as I want to help Alator." 

Finna stared at him sadly. "I do not know. I came to warn you so you would be prepared for the days ahead, but I bring no answers. I am sorry, Emrys."

He nodded, staring into the forest. A sense of tiredness came over him. _When will it end?_   All he wanted to do was just curl up and ignore everything. Ignore destiny, ignore Morgana, ignore how the world seemed to be falling apart around him. He wanted to go to sleep and never wake up to this cruel world that seemed to mock him at every turn. He shut his eyes briefly before opening them, looking back at Finna. She was staring at him with a soft sadness, no doubt reading his expression.

She opened her mouth as if to say something when an arrow whizzed by, grazing Merlin's cheek. He jolted in alarm, grabbing Finna and pulling her behind a tree as another arrow lodged in the bark. Pounding hooves grew closer and Merlin knew with sudden dread that Morgana had found them.

For a split second he looked at Finna in accusation, but her face was too shocked and terrified to be false. She may have led Morgana here, but not knowingly. Grabbing her arm he started to run, weaving through trees in hopes of losing their pursuers. They broke through into a clearing and slid to a stunned halt as armed mercenaries greeted them. An arrow whistled through the air and struck home, pain flaring through Merlin's side. He screamed, blasting the mercenaries back in a powerful burst of magic. He felt his legs give out from under him, shock overtaking pain. Finna caught him as he fell, eyes fluttering and breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Emrys, no, we have to keep going," she whispered, struggling to hold his weight. 

With great effort Merlin pushed the pain down, telling himself he'd had worse. He could feel his magic flaring, trying to heal the wound. Knowing it would make it worse but having no other option he grasped the end of the arrow and yanked, pulling it out with a sickening tearing sound. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and he swayed, dropping the bloodied arrow. One hand moved to his side by instinct to stop the flow of blood that quickly saturated his shirt. He straightened, gasping with pain, and nodded to Finna to continue. She was looking at him with a mixture of horror and sadness, but his mind was too muddled to dwell on it. He limped along, Finna supporting him as the hoofbeats grew louder behind them. 

Merlin followed where Finna lead blindly, his whole world consumed by the pain in his side. He thought he heard a molar crack as he maneuvered over a large root. Soon they came upon a small stone watchtower, empty and crumbled by age. Finna pushed Merlin up the stairs, voices becoming clear in the distance. His addled brain didn't understand what she was doing but he didn't have enough energy to protest. The stairs seemed endless, and he was barely clinging to consciousness by the time the night breeze hit his face on top of the tower. Finna laid him down gently, murmuring something he didn't catch. 

"What?" he tried to say, but his mouth wasn't working and all that came out was a garbled sound.

Finna leaned down and brushed a hand gently across his forehead.

"This is where I leave you, Emrys," she said softly. "They think I am alone. They will never find you."

Merlin looked up at her, confused. He didn't understand what she was trying to say, the world spinning and fading before his eyes.

Finna knelt. "It is my destiny, Emrys, to serve you until the end. I could wish for nothing more. It has been a privilege to know you, Emrys." She looked at him one last time and then turned, disappearing through the door to the roof.

With the last of Finna's strength, she sealed the door with magic. Then she made her way down to the floor below, drawing a dagger from her belt. Mercenaries swarmed up the stairs and still Finna stood, blue eyes fixed resolutely on the door opposite.

Morgana came through the door, her black dress trailing on the dusty floor and her face full of wicked triumph. "Finna, at last. I'm impressed. You're age, it's very spirited," she taunted.

"Stay. Away," Finna said, pointing the dagger at Morgana.

Morgana kept talking, advancing with every step. "But with age also comes wisdom. It's over." Her face hardened. "Tell me who Emrys is."

Finna huffed a laugh, looking back at Morgana defiantly. "Never." And in one smooth motion she turned the dagger, plunging it into her chest. 

Morgana started forward, but was too late. Finna slid to the floor, eyes locked on Morgana even as she drew her last rasping breath. On the roof, Merlin drew one last breath and was still. Two sets of blue eyes stared into nothingness, blood pooling around their bodies.

Morgana turned away in frustration. Hardly sparing a glance for the dead woman, she strode out of the tower, gathering her men. With a word, they rode off into the afternoon, the sound of their hoofbeats fading in the distance. On the roof, Merlin suddenly gasped, eyes flying open. His chest heaved with heavy breaths as he took in his surroundings, his head clearer and pain fading. The wound on his side was still sore but fairly healed, no longer bleeding. Merlin looked down at the pool of blood on the floor. As a physician, he knew exactly how large a pool of blood could be before someone died. His meant he should be dead. He..had been dead.  _That's impossible,_ Merlin thought.  _Finna must have done a healing spell._ Something in the back of his mind told him that wasn't true. It terrified him. Who died and came back to life? Would his destiny even let him die? He felt cheated, somehow. The one thing he had thought he had been in control of had been violently ripped from him. He couldn't even die. There was no escape from the cruelty of life and the destiny that had ensnared him in its clutches. It was enough to drive one mad.

Unlocking the door with magic and venturing downstairs he found Finna, lying where she had fallen.  _Oh, Finna,_ he thought. _When will people stop dying for me_? He knelt down beside her, gently closing her sightless eyes. Struggling against the onslaught of emotion threatening to choke him, he lifted her body with a spell, carrying her outside. Then he made a hole in the ground, and gently placed Finna into it. He paused, picking up a handful of dirt. Carefully, he opening his fist over the grave, letting the dirt sprinkle softly onto Finna's body. Tears streamed down his face and he sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, nature the only witness to his grief. Then his eyes flashed and the rest of the dirt rose up, flowing onto and around Finna and encasing her in earth. Soon all that remained was a raised mound of earth, smooth and clean. Merlin gathered stones and placed them as a marker on top of the grave, resting his hand against the earth.

"Goodbye, Finna," he said quietly. A breeze ruffled his hair. Even the birds were silent, as if they felt the loss as well. Eventually he turned, making his way toward Camelot. He washed the blood off his hands in a nearby stream, the water clear and cold. The blood was removed from his shirt with a simple spell, his eyes dried and the redness fading. He felt empty, like everything was unreal. He came across the clearing where he had killed the mercenaries, their twisted bodies and sightless eyes seeming to mock him. He felt nothing for their deaths. He continued on with barely a glance, moving like a puppet on strings. By the time he got to Camelot it was dinnertime. He slipped into the castle and made his way to the dining hall, part of his mind acknowledging that he was late. He jogged into the hall just in time to see Arthur sitting down with Gwen and Lancelot.

Arthur looked up, appraising his appearance. "Nice of you to join us." He looked at Merlin thoroughly and his gaze turned concerned.

Merlin didn't have the energy to reply, sliding into his chair and jarring his side. His hand wanted to grasp his side but he resisted the temptation, knowing Arthur was watching. He struggled to maintain a neutral expression, the pain and emptiness threatening to overtake him. Gwen reached across to take his hand. He let her, not feeling the contact. She looked concerned. He felt he should probably care about that.

"Merlin dear, what happened?" she asked, her eyes kind and warm.

Merlin felt trapped under the weight of her concern. "Oh," he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "I was picking herbs in the woods and tripped and fell." He swallowed convulsively, not making eye contact as he shifted in his seat. It was a terrible lie and he knew it, but his skill at deception eluded him at the moment. He couldn't bring himself to care if they believed it.

Arthur, ever oblivious, seemed to accept it. "You idiot," he said blithely, ruffling Merlin's hair. "I leave you alone for one day and look what happens."

Merlin ducked his head under Arthur's hand, cheeks coloring. He caught Arthur and Gwen exchanging looks across the table but didn't have the energy to worry about what they meant. He just wanted everything to stop.  _You can't die,_ his thoughts mocked.  _Finna died for you and you can't die._


	10. Chapter 10

Merlin barely remembered how he had gotten through the evening. Dinner had passed as if in a dream, Merlin floating in and out of consciousness as voices swirled around him. He had wandered into Gauis's at some point and put salve on his cheek, the effort feeling futile. Why did he even bother? Neither Gaius nor Daegal was there. He was ashamed at his relief. He had gotten Arthur ready for bed with mechanical efficiency, just wanting to get away. Then Arthur had grabbed his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts and into awareness. And Arthur, ever so gently, had raised Merlin's chin, his hand soft and warm on his skin. He had asked "Merlin, what's wrong?" with such gentle intensity, as if he would move mountains to make it right. His blue eyes searched Merlin's as if to undo all his secrets. And gods, did Merlin want to tell him. But Arthur couldn't make it right. His beautiful hands shouldn't be touching Merlin, with his bloodstained hands and twisted soul. If Arthur was light and goodness then Merlin was a black hole, doomed to swallow up everything good he came in contact with. He thought of Morgana, her terrified eyes looking up at him as he held her, poison stealing her breath. He thought of Finna, believing in a false savior only to die, alone and unremembered while he was dragged back to life. He thought of sightless eyes and lifeless bodies and blood, blood staining his hands, so much blood the world ran red.

He stepped back, breaking Arthur's hold.

 

He laid on his bed, but sleep eluded him. His mind was filled with visions of death, death he would never experience but inevitably brought. No grave would accept his body, no sword steal his breath. He had always knew it, somehow, in the back of his mind, but to dwell on it had been too terrifying. How he had died when he drank the poison for Arthur, but was alive the next moment. How he had survived the Dorocha's touch.  _No mortal man ever survives their touch._ No mortal man. An immortal one then. He wondered if they had known. Those magical creatures and sorcerers who seemed to now more about him than he did. Emrys. Had they known? The next moment the thought became rage. Had they known? He needed answers. Jumping up, he slipped out the door, padding across Arthur's chambers and out into the hall. It was simple to stick to the shadows, evading the guards with practiced ease. When he was out of the citadel and into the forest he broke into a run, roaring for Kilgharrah in the dragon tongue. By the time he had skidded into their clearing, breaths coming in gasps, Kilgharrah had landed and was looking at him with concern.

"Young Warlock, is everything alright?"

Merlin chest heaved, breaths coming in sobs. "Did you know?" His voice trembled with rage.

Kilgharrah looked confused. "Know what, young Warlock?"

Merlin's hands clenched into fists. "Did. You. Know?" he yelled, tears pricking his eyes. "Did you know I can't die?" His breath hitched, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Kilgharrah looked sad, his golden eyes softening as he bent his head to Merlin. "It is in your name, young Warlock. In the Druid tongue, Emrys means 'immortal.' I have always known."

Merlin felt betrayed. His anger had softened to a deep hurt that pulsed in his chest. "So everyone knew. Everyone knew and no one bothered to tell me. Why did no one tell me?" he pleaded, looking up at the dragon.

"I thought it would be too great a burden to bear," Kilgharrah replied. "It seems I was right." His golden eyes peered down at Merlin in sympathy.

Merlin shook his head. "No. No. I had a right to know. Someone should have told me. Instead, I had to find out-" He broke off, clamping his mouth shut. The memory of waking up in a pool of his own blood flashed before his eyes, the horror and revulsion threatening to overwhelm him. He pressed a hand to his eyes, breathing deeply. "Someone should have told me." it was soft, the pleading voice of a young child.

Kilgharrah looked troubled. "I am sorry, young Warlock. If I had known you would find out this way I would have told you."

Merlin looked up sharply. "If you had known. That's always it, isn't it. You manipulate me to do what you want without caring about the consequences." It was true, he realized. Every one of his terrible decisions had been based on Kilgharrah's advice. Kilgharrah had used him to get free and then wreak destruction on Camelot.

Kilgharrah looked offended. "I have only done what I knew had to be done to see the future we all want."

"No." Merlin shook his head, stepping back. "You told me to kill Mordred when he was a child. An innocent child. You manipulated me into letting you go and slaughtered hundreds of innocents. You told me not to trust Morgana. Because I listened to you and Gaius, she was left alone and afraid. You told me to kill her. She was still good!" He was yelling now, the pent-up regrets he felt finally unleashing in a vicious torrent. "She was still good and I poisoned her!

"You saved Camelot. The witch was the source of the spell," Kilgharrah said angrily, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"She didn't know!" Merlin screamed. "She was good and kind and she didn't know and I destroyed her."

He sank to the ground, tears streaming down his face. "And she was right. All she wanted to do was to be herself. She just wanted to stop living in fear. It doesn't excuse the terrible things she did to achieve it, but she was right." He composed himself, eyes growing hard. "I understand her. I understand what you did. Sometimes I want to raze Camelot to the ground. Let it fall. I want to make people pay for what they've done to people with magic. For making me grow up terrified. I want to burn it all and start over somewhere far away, far from destiny and Arthur and all this death and destruction."

Kilgharrah gaze had turned understanding, sadness reflected in his eyes. "You don't mean that, Merlin," he said.

Merlin deflated. "No, no I don't." He took a deep breath, tipping his head back. "I would burn the world to keep Arthur safe. And that's the problem, isn't it? I'll always choose Arthur, and you know that." He huffed a bitter laugh. "I thought with Morgana it was a choice between Arthur and Morgana. And I chose Arthur. But it wasn't, was it? I could have helped her with her magic, and she could have helped Arthur. It was never a choice at all." He continued, the words bitter and harsh but ringing with truth. "I thought the Disir was a choice between Arthur and magic. And so of course I chose Arthur. But it wasn't. Arthur and magic were the same choice. By denying magic, I sealed Arthur's fate. Mordred will kill Arthur like I saw in the vision, and I.." His voice cracked, emotion choking him. "And there will be nothing left."

He sat there for a moment, tears cutting tracks down his face. Kilgharrah said nothing, for once looking lost. Finally he seemed to gather himself and spoke.

"I am sorry, Merlin." Merlin looked up at the sincerity in his voice. Kilgharrah's head was bowed in shame, nose almost brushing the grass. "I am a dragon, but it would be foolish to blame it entirely on my nature. After being imprisoned for twenty years, I had lost sight of what was right and wrong. I have no love for humans, or any trust left at all. The choices I have made have been warped by fear and hatred. I have failed you, young Warlock. I was impatient to bring about the time of the Once and Future King but in doing so, doomed it's very existence. I am old, Merlin, and the last of my kind. Forgive me the choices I have made, and allow me to serve you until me end. All is not yet lost."

Merlin stared at the dragon, stunned. He had never heard Kilgharrah speak with such honesty and remorse. The anger inside him faded. He thought of this creature of magic and wonder, who had watched all his kin slaughtered, betrayed and imprisoned for twenty years alone in a cave. He thought of the anger and hatred that must have festered, and the desperate hope in a prophecy that was all he had. He moved towards the dragon, resting his forehead against Kilgharrah's and bringing a hand up to stroke the golden scales. 

"I forgive you," he whispered.

Kilgharrah shuddered and his eyes closed, a great sigh emanating from the dragon. They stayed like that for a minute, the last great dragon and the last dragonlord, alone in the world.

Eventually they pulled apart, knowing there was still much to be said. For a moment, Merlin felt as if all the weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he could finally breathe. In the next instant it came crashing back down and Merlin almost staggered at the onslaught. Arthur's fate was still sealed and there was nothing he could do.

As if he knew what Merlin was thinking, Kilgharrah gave him a look. "It is not too late, Merlin. You can still fulfill your destiny."

Merlin shook his head. "The Disir have cast their judgement. There is nothing I can do."

If Kilgharrah had eyebrows, they would be raised. "Merlin, the Disir condemned Arthur for not accepting magic. There is still time to change that. The time has come for Arthur to learn of your true identity."

"No. I can't." Merlin shook his head vehemently. "I can't tell him."

"Merlin, you must do this," Kilgharrah pressed.

Merlin's throat felt tight and tears threatened to spill, his face contorted with emotion. "He'll hate me," he whispered. 

"A half can never hate that which makes it whole," Kilgharrah intoned.

Merlin shook his head, mouth twitching in a grimace. "Not when he hates magic as much as he does. Not when I've been lying to him for ten years. Not when I killed his father." The last part was spoken in a pained whisper, the familiar regret and shame rising up in him.

Kilgharrah sighed. "You did not kill Uther, as much as I wished you would. It was Morgana that forged the charm and Agravaine that placed it around his neck."

"But my spell was the one that ended his life. Maybe if I hadn't.."

"Then Uther would have died anyway," Kilgharrah interrupted. He paused. "Merlin, why did you not tell Arthur earlier?"

Merlin swallowed. "At first, it was self-preservation. We didn't know each other well, and he would turn me in without a second thought. Then, it was because he would have to choose between me and his father. Then, I had killed his father-" Kilgharrah opened his mouth and he shot him a look-" _inadvertently_ killed his father, and then..." He trailed off. "Then it was too late. By the time I could tell him I had been lying to him for years." He swallowed. "And I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I told myself I would tell him soon. And then soon turned into later, and later, and I was so used to lying but I had had so many chances to tell him and hadn't and all I could think of was that I didn't want to lose him. That I had to protect him and I couldn't do that if he hated me. He is everything that is good and right in the world and I...I am everything that is not. Without him I am nothing at all."

When he finished speaking there was a profound silence, as if the very world had stopped to listen. The night was clear and still, the only light the moon, a glowing crescent in the sky. Stars sprinkled the heavens in pinpoints of light, shining softly in a beautiful array. Kilgharrah's luminous eyes reflected the moonlight, deep pools of gold and silver watching Merlin sadly. Merlin sat crosslegged, twisting blades of grass around his fingers as his tears splashed onto the earth.

"I can't tell him, Kilgharrah. I know it's cowardice, but I can't. I have lied so long I'm not even sure if I know how to tell the truth anymore. Almost everyone who's ever found out about my magic has died. Will, Freya, Balinor, Lancelot. I can't lose Arthur as well."

"I know it is hard, young Warlock. But you are but one side of a coin. Arthur is the other." His voice resonated with prophecy. "Arthur is not just a king. He is the Once and Future King. Take heart, for you must trust in your destiny."

Merlin sighed, exhaustion catching up with him. "You sound like my mother."

Kilgharrah smiled, the expression strange on the dragon's face. "You would do well to listen to her, Merlin. There is still a chance to make things right. Heed my words, Merlin."

Merlin yawned, weariness settling on him like a cloud. "I will think about it. Thank you, Kilgharrah, for everything."

Kilgharrah dipped his large head regally. "No, thank you, Merlin. You granted me mercy and forgiveness when you had no reason to. I am forever in your debt."

With that he turned, wings flapping as he launched himself into the sky. Merlin watched him go, his form soon disappearing into the inky blackness of the night. Unnoticed, another form slipped away from the edge of the clearing, cloaked in darkness. Merlin turned and began walking back to Camelot, heart heavy with revelations and choices.

As he crept into Arthur's chambers he paused, looking over at the bed. Arthur was turned away from the door, golden hair the only thing visible above the blankets. Merlin walked quietly across the room until he stood next to the bed, looking down at Arthur's still form. He could just see the side of his face, eyes closed and hair falling across his forehead. With a brush of fingertips he moved a strand of hair across Arthur's forehead, eyes taking in the peaceful form. His mouth tightened in pain and he withdrew his hand, moving across the room and into his own chambers. He laid down on his bed and was asleep in moments, exhaustion winning over.

In the next room Arthur's eyes opened and he sat up in bed, fully dressed. A traveling cloak lay stuffed under the bed. And Arthur sat awake long into the night, his whole world turned upside down.

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

When Arthur had woken up to Merlin sneaking out of his chambers and decided to follow him, he had never thought that this was what he would find. Merlin was.. talking to a dragon. A dragon that looked suspiciously similar to the one that Arthur had supposedly killed. His first reaction was surprise and disbelief. His second was acceptance.  _Of course Merlin could talk to dragons._ It actually fit perfectly, like another puzzle piece slotted into place.  _Merlin is an idiot._ _Merlin is a dragonlord._ His third reaction was betrayal. How could Merlin have not told him? Did he set the dragon on Camelot? Was he a traitor? In the next instant he banished those thoughts. Merlin was many things, but a traitor was not one of them. His loyalty to Arthur was too deep to be faked. But what was going on?

He crept closer to the edge of clearing, hiding behind a tree where he could both see and hear the conversation. He could see Merlin's face, taught with rage, and the dragon's answering scowl.  _Did you know?_ Merlin was shouting, pain and anger lacing his words. Know what?

Arthur's question was answered in the next breath.  _Did you know that I can't die?_ He sucked in a breath. Oh gods. Merlin was...The dragon confirmed it.  _Emrys._ His whole world tilted. Merlin was Emrys. Emrys was Merlin. It shouldn't make sense, but it did. It made perfect sense. Arthur sucked in a lungful of air.  _Merlin was Emrys. Merlin has magic._ All this time, he had been at Arthur's side. Was his friendship a lie? Arthur didn't want to dwell on it. He shook his head, focusing on the conversation. 

 _Someone should have told me. Instead I had to find out-_ Oh. Oh no. In a burst of clarity, Arthur understood. He suddenly wished he didn't, as his dinner threatened to come up again. No one had told him. He had had to find out. His mind conjured up a picture of Merlin injured and alone, realizing he couldn't die. Was that what had happened to Merlin today? Was that what had put that haunted look in his eyes tonight? He closed his eyes against the image, willing it to go away.

Merlin had turned his ire on the dragon. And all of a sudden, everything came spilling out. He had let the dragon free. It sent a stab of ice through Arthur's heart, the memory of flames and screams and burning flesh assaulting his senses.  _Merlin, how could you?_ he thought. But no, it wasn't Merlin. It was the dragon. The dragon who had manipulated Merlin, Merlin who was just a young boy trying to keep Arthur alive. The dragon who had manipulated Merlin into abandoning Morgana. He couldn't pretend to understand what Merlin meant when he talked about poisoning Morgana, but he knew there was a story there he had never known. So many things he hadn't known. So many times Merlin had to shoulder the weight of a world that should have been Arthur's.

He shivered when Merlin's anger overflowed. _And she was right._

 _Yes,_  Arthur thought. _Yes, she was._

 _Sometimes I want to raze Camelot to the ground._ He could do it with a snap of his fingers if he wanted, and Arthur wouldn't blame him. His gentle, good Merlin, with his big heart and innocent eyes. His Merlin who just wanted to do the right thing. His Merlin who been told from birth that he were wrong, that he should be killed for something he could not help. Who had suffered alone and afraid just like Morgana but had never turned evil, had never raised a hand against Arthur or Camelot. Arthur thought that if Merlin wanted to burn Camelot to the ground, the Arthur would light the match.

 _You don't mean that,_ said the dragon.  _No,_ Merlin said.  _No I don't._ _I would burn the world to keep Arthur safe._ And it was terrifying, to be the focus of such power and devotion.  _Don't,_ Arthur wanted to say.  _I'm not worth that._

And Merlin spun a tale of misguided choices and unselfish loyalty. In the end he had chosen Arthur over everything, even his own life.  _Merlin, you idiot,_ Arthur thought.  _Why would you do that?_ Because Merlin was right. It had never been a choice between Arthur and magic. Arthur and magic were one choice, one true choice that was right and just. Arthur knew this now, and vowed to never again make that mistake. Because Merlin would always choose Arthur, but Arthur would always choose Merlin.

The final piece of the puzzle came together with the mention of Mordred.  _And Mordred will kill Arthur._ And there it was. Merlin, Mordred, Magic. The three M's had come together to form the final puzzle, a wicked trap that had ensnared Merlin in its jaws. Merlin and Mordred had magic. Merlin feared Mordred. Mordred worshipped Merlin. And Merlin tried to kill Mordred and magic for Arthur.

He watched as the dragon gave a heartfelt apology that moved even Arthur. Although he had seen the pain and suffering the dragon had brought, he could understand his anger and need for revenge. Merlin approached the dragon, seeming so small compared to the great beast. When they touched foreheads Arthur felt like he was intruding on a private moment and looked away, tears stinging his eyes. This was all that was left of the great magic of old. All the other dragons had be slaughtered, the dragonlords wiped out with them. They had both once belonged to a line of power and wonder, when magic was free and they were treated with reverence. Now they were all alone in the world, hated and hunted.  

They drew apart, but Arthur could tell the conversation wasn't over. Inevitably, it turned to his fate. But was it set in stone? Merlin didn't know that Arthur was planning on bringing magic back. It made sense that, like the dragon said, once Arthur accepted magic the Disir's decision would be overturned. Although, according to the dragon the only way to do this was for Merlin to reveal his magic. Arthur felt a little offended. How about just explaining things to him? For gods sake Mordred had changed his mind in one day simply by telling him the truth about magic. 

But Merlin shook his head.  _I can't._ Arthur stared in sorrow. Did Merlin really think he would have him executed? He had thought Merlin trusted him. It stung a little, little pinpricks of hurt saying  _he doesn't trust you._

 _He'll hate me._ It was said so softly Arthur almost didn't catch it, a whisper loaded with pain and sadness. Arthur's fingers twitched,  wanting to reach out and shake Merlin. He wanted to look him in the eye and tell him  _no. I could never hate you. Never._

Then Merlin said something that made his blood run cold.  _I killed his father._ No. No. Arthur shook his head as if that would make it not true. Dragoon's eyes flashed before him, so familiar. No. Merlin would never do that to him, no matter how much he hated Uther.  _Please,_ he pleaded.  _Let it not be true._

He sighed in relief when his worst fears were allayed. Of course Merlin wouldn't do that. How could he ever think Arthur would hate him for trying to save Uther? 

Still, he thought. Why did he never tell me? It had been years since Uther's death, and Merlin was still hiding. Why?

Again the dragon seemed to read his thoughts.  _Why?_

And Merlin explained, haltingly at first and then the words rushed out of him like a flood, drowning him in regret. _It was too late._   _I didn't want to lose him. He is everything that is good in the world and I...I am everything that is not._ Arthur's heart fractured, cracks running down it.  _Without him I am nothing at all._ Arthur's heart shattered into pieces and he wept silently, tears streaming down his face. He wanted to run to Merlin and wrap him in his arms. He wanted to tell him that it wasn't too late, that he was listening, that Merlin didn't have to hide any longer. He wanted to tell him he was sorry, that he would never leave him. That Merlin was not nothing, but everything, and Arthur would protect Merlin like Merlin protected him.

In the silence that followed, Arthur tried to collect his thoughts. It felt like seeing the sun come out from behind the clouds, the revelation of who Merlin was. He had finally figured Merlin out, and it was better and worse than he could have imagined. Merlin was Emrys, a man born with magic who was more powerful than anyone on earth. And Merlin was Merlin, Arthur's friend and advisor, who was loyal and brave and truehearted. He was everything that made him Merlin, and he was Arthur's. The knowledge of his magic slotted in like a missing piece, filling in the blank spaces of Merlin that Arthur had never been able to fill. And Arthur's heart swelled with love for his beautiful, brave, broken Merlin. He vowed he would find a way to glue back together the shattered pieces of Merlin's soul, and fulfill the destiny that had long awaited them. With Merlin by his side, he would build the kingdom he had always dreamed of, a kingdom where everyone could be free.

As Merlin and the dragon said their goodbyes, Arthur slipped away into the darkness. He would tell Merlin that he knew of his magic, but not now. He would have to approach the issue delicately, and first make sure he had changed the laws so Merlin had no reason to fear him. He hoped that once the laws were changed, Merlin would tell him of his own accord, proving he trusted Arthur. Arthur snuck back into the castle ahead of Merlin, shoving his cloak under the bed. He climbed into bed, pulling the blankets up to his neck to hide his clothes, and turned away from the door so Merlin wouldn't see his face. 

Scarcely a minute later, he heard the door creak open. Soft footsteps padded towards the bed, while Arthur shut his eyes and feigned sleep. Gentle fingers stroked his forehead, brushing a strand of hair to the side. Arthur tried to stay still, his body wanting to lean into the soft touch. Then the hand withdrew, Merlin's footsteps fading as he walked across the room. The sound of a door closing signaled that Merlin was gone. Arthur waited another minute before opening his eyes and sitting up, unable to sleep. He stayed there long into the night, contemplating the future and the glorious kingdom he could begin to see shining on the horizon.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Arthur woke up the next morning to Merlin throwing open the curtains. It was so routine, so normal after all the revelations of the previous night that he could only stare for a minute, half expecting something strange to happen. But Merlin simply finished tying back the curtains and puttered around the room, straightening up in his haphazard way.  

Arthur shot up in bed. "Merlin," he breathed. He stared at Merlin as if seeing him for the first time. And maybe he was, for now Arthur knew the power contained in that wiry body, the pain filling his eyes. But there Merlin stood, picking up his laundry as if he was just a simple servant. The dichotomy was jarring.

Merlin turned, raising an eyebrow. "Arthur," he responded sardonically. He looked pale, shadows like bruises under his eyes. The cut on his cheek looked better, only a small slice that would heal quickly.

Arthur realized he had been staring too long and that Merlin was starting to give him a strange look. He coughed, quickly averting his eyes as he got out of bed. He supposed they were going to do the thing where Merlin pretended he hadn't been upset last night and Arthur pretended he had forgotten it, as was their norm. That would have to change, but for now he let it lie. "What's on the agenda for today, Merlin?" He tried to infuse his voice with it's natural haughtiness as he sat down to breakfast.

Merlin sighed, listing on his fingers. "First there's a council session, then training with the knights, then you have to preside over a trial, then you have to perform a freeman's ceremony, then you have to get ready for a banquet this evening. Lord Aelfwick of Brennick is visiting." He plopped himself down across from Arthur, stealing a grape off his plate.

Arthur wished he he just crawl back into bed. He had gotten barely any sleep the night before after following Merlin, and the day was sure to be a long and arduous one. He wouldn't even have time to begin reviewing the laws on magic as he had wanted to. He hoped Gwen had gotten a good start on that as she said she would so there wasn't as much to do.  _Gwen,_ he suddenly thought. Should he tell her of Merlin's magic? She was Merlin's closest friend and would certainly accept him, but he didn't know if it was his place to tell her. He wrestled with the idea until deciding to leave it for now. It was Merlin's secret, and he should be the one to tell it, especially after hiding it out of fear for so long. He would probably faint if he knew that Arthur and Gwen both knew.

Decided, he went back to eating his breakfast, sneaking glances at Merlin in between bites. He couldn't stop looking at him now that he knew. It was like he was seeing clearly for the first time, and Merlin seemed even more beautiful and present than ever before. His blue eyes stared at the parchment in contemplation as he chewed, and Arthur suddenly wondered what they would look like when he did magic. For all his revelations, he had not yet seen Merlin do magic, and was both terrified and eager to see it at last.

But that wasn't quite true, he thought. He had seen Merlin's magic before. He combed through his memories, alighting on instances he had attributed to luck or chance. The blue ball of light in the caves of Balor. Branches falling on bandit's heads. An immortal army suddenly crumbling into dust. Merlin's magic had been there all along, protecting him. What would his father say if he knew? That for all Uther's efforts, magic had been right by his side all along.

An image of Merlin, pinned to the wall by spears as Uther advanced, flashed through his mind.  _"Merlin has..._ " 

 _Magic. Merlin has magic,_ Arthur thought. It was luck that Arthur blew the horn before he could finish that sentence. He thought of Merlin, looking terrified and struggling to hold back tears after he blew the horn. Terrified of discovery. Terrified of Uther and Arthur and the ferocity of the Pendragons' hatred for magic. How had he been able to stand in Uther's presence all those years, knowing the atrocities he had committed? Knowing that he would kill him where he stood for something he was born with? Merlin had even tried to save Uther's life, for gods sake. How much loyalty did one have to have to save their would-be murderer?

The enormity of everything that Merlin had done over the years, most of which he didn't know, overwhelmed him. Thank you was not enough for everything he had done. Sorry was too little. There were no words to encompass what Arthur felt when he looked at Merlin, the gratitude and love that overflowed his heart. He would fight a thousand armies with his bare hands if it could give Merlin back even an ounce of what he had given Arthur.

 

Soon enough, it was time for the council meeting. Merlin dressed him, the brush of his fingers sending sparks of fire along Arthur's skin. He was already dressed, his black trousers and fine red coat making him look regal and every inch a noble. Which, Arthur thought with a frown, he actually might be. He wasn't sure if the title of dragonlord was a literal lordship, and in any case being Emrys should more than qualify him for nobility. Merlin still wore a blue neckerchief tucked into the red jacket, although it was of better quality than his rags of old. Arthur had given up trying to disabuse him of the things.

They walked into the hall together, the rest of the council already asssembled. Merlin took the seat on Arthur's right, smiling across at Gwen who sat on Arthur's left. Leon sat next to Gwen and next to Merlin sat Gaius, who appraised Merlin with a troubled eye. Since this was a council meeting, instead of knights various lords and ladies sat around the rest of the Round Table. Arthur raised a hand and the table grew silent, the murmured conversations dying away to nothing.

"It is a pleasure to see you all here and well. Now, to the first order of business. Aelrid, if you would be so kind as to detail the harvest reports?"

A stuffy man with a paunchy stomach and puffy cheeks cleared his throat. "Yes of course, my lord," he intoned in a nasally voice. He began to read off the reports, Arthur fighting to keep his eyes from glazing over. When he had finished, Arthur caught several lords falling asleep in their chairs, their heads beginning to tip forwards.

Arthur clapped his hands. Several lords jerked in their seats, eyes blinking away sleep. "Thank you, lord Aelrid. It seems we will have plenty of food for the months ahead. Leon, what news from the patrols?"

Leon looked around the table. "Several have reported sightings of Morgana with a Saxon army." There were barely concealed gasps around the table. Arthur saw Merlin stiffen out of the corner of his eye. "They say she has even ventured close to Camelot, and that she appears to be searching for something. Several men have been lost to her raids." 

Arthur nodded in sympathy. "See to it that their families are taken care of. It is concerning that she is venturing so close to Camelot. Her power is great, and we have nothing to answer it."  _Except we do,_ he thought.  _Only no one knows about it._ He took a deep breath and continued, steeling himself for the reactions. "That brings me to another matter. It has come to my attention that we have been thinking about magic wrong all these years." Merlin froze in his seat beside him and he could hear confused mutterings from the council members. He looked over at Gwen, who smiled at him in reassurance. "Magic is not a force to be feared. It is as natural as the air we breathe. That said, Morgana has used hers for nothing but evil. By banning all magic, we have left ourselves defenseless against her attacks. I am proposing that we revise our laws of magic, and let those who use it for good come to our side." He looked around the table. Most of the older lords who had served under Uther were looking positively horrified, while others looked thoughtful. He had tried to appeal to the strategist in them, by posing magic as a weapon against Morgana. Of course that was secondary to wanting to free magic users from persecution, but it would take a long time to change the minds of those who had lived under Uther's reign. He didn't dare look over at Merlin, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Merlin staring at him in shock, eyes wide with..hope?

One of Uther's councilors spoke up. "This is preposterous! Magic is pure evil, and corrupts even the best of souls." He pounded his fist on the table. "Uther would never have stood for this," he finished darkly.

Arthur drew himself up in his chair, eyes boring into the lord with force.  "Uther is not King, I am. And you have been blinded by fear and hatred. You have been told that magic corrupts, but that is not true. Power corrupts, yes, but would you have me strip you of your lordship?" The lord paled and drew back in his seat, shaking his head. Arthur looked around the table, meeting each and every one of his councilors' eyes. "Magic is simply a force, it is neither good nor evil. What determines it's purpose is the heart of the wielder. Furthermore, it is not a choice as you have been lead to believe. Sorcerers are born, not made. They have to learn spells, yes, but the magic is as natural as the blood running through their veins. Should we condemn hundreds of good people for something they cannot control? Should we punish those who seek to use their gift for good, to heal and to protect? There can be no honor, no justice in the slaughter of innocents. It is time to stop fearing and hating magic. It is time to use the tools we have in our possession to defeat Morgana once and for all and build a kingdom that everyone can believe in."

The silence that followed his words was so absolute that one could have heard a pin drop. Some councilors stared open-mouthed at Arthur, others nodded in agreement. Leon gave Arthur a sharp nod, telling him he was with him. Gwen was beaming in pride, her eyes glistening. Gaius had his hand over his heart, his eyes shining with pride. And Merlin. Oh, Merlin. Tears were streaming down Merlin's face as he fought to keep his composure, eyes shining with such pride and fierce joy that it took Arthur's breath away. He met Arthur's gaze and his face lit up in a smile, a small nod telling Arthur _you did good._ Bringing a hand up to wipe at his face, Merlin laughed softly, turning to Gaius and sharing a heartfelt look.

Arthur let out a breath, smiling. He turned back to the councilors. "All those in favor of revising the laws on magic?"

A hand went up, then another. Soon all but three of the councilors had their hands raised, the remaining ones looking around them in disgust.  _Well,_ Arthur thought.  _You can't expect them to change overnight._ It had been thirty years of hatred and fear, after all.

"It is decided," he said. "We will begin reviewing the laws regarding magic, and hopefully reach a resolution soon. I am confident that this is the right course for the kingdom, and would welcome your input during the process. Let us move on to the next order of business."

The rest of the council session passed in a much more mundane way. It took a while for the atmosphere of tension to dissipate, but Arthur plowed on and soon even the recalcitrant councilors were fully engaged in the session. Merlin didn't contribute much, seeming to be in a dazed trance for most of the session. Gaius kept shooting him worried looks, and even Gwen frowned at him in confusion. Arthur left feeling like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. Convincing the council to accept magic had worried him, and he was surprised that it had gone so well. Now he could focus on creating new laws, hopefully with Merlin's help. 

As soon as they had reached his chambers, Merlin looked at him intently.

"Did you mean it? Do you really want to change the laws on magic?" He looked desperate, searching Arthur's face for an answer. 

"Yes, I do," he answered honestly. Hope bled into Merlin's eyes and he stared at Arthur like he had just given the world to Merlin. Which, he supposed he had.

"What do you think, Merlin?" he asked, genuinely wanting to know the answer.

Merlin smiled but schooled his expression into one of neutrality. "I think it's great. You made a very good argument in there. It could definitely be useful in stopping Morgana." Arthur noticed he was purposefully skirting his own reasons, not wanting to reveal too much. _Just tell me, Merlin,_ he thought.  _It's the perfect time._

But Merlin didn't, simply helping Arthur into his armor with hands that shook just the slightest bit.

 


	13. Chapter 13

As Merlin dressed Arthur with shaking fingers, his mind was overwhelmed by a multitude of thoughts. The prominent one that ran through his head was _Arthur accepts magic. Arthur accepts magic_. It was scarcely able to be believed, something he had long ago given up hope of happening. Arthur had seemed so set against magic before, so what had happened to change his mind?

His curiosity won out and he asked hesitantly, gaze fixed on buckling the vambraces on Arthur's forearm. "I'm just wondering, what changed your mind? I thought you hated magic." He couldn't bear to look Arthur in the eye, nervously awaiting his response as he fiddled with the buckles.

"I never hated magic, Merlin. I had just never been told the truth about it. I realized that I knew next to nothing about it, which is dangerous from a tactical standpoint. We must understand our enemies in order to defeat them."

Merlin interrupted him, deflating. "So you just want to know how to defeat it. You don't want to raise the ban." Bitterness crept up inside him and he looked down, struggling not to let Arthur see how affected he was. How could he have thought that Arthur actually accepted magic?

But Arthur shook his head, sighing in exasperation. "Merlin, did you listen to a word I said in there? I do want to raise the ban, because it is the right thing to do. For once in your life, just listen."

Merlin looked up finally, the familiar phrase bringing a twitch to his lips. Arthur wanted to raise the ban? He nodded at Arthur to continue, nerves thrumming in anticipation.

"So, I realized I knew nothing about magic, and thought that was, quite frankly, ridiculous. By forbidding any discussion on it my father had left us open to magical attacks. At least this was my only reasoning at the time. Logically, I thought about who would be knowledgeable in such an area. Immediately, I thought of Mordred, as I knew he was a Druid."

Merlin paled, suddenly uneasy. Mordred? He felt a slight stab of pain at the thought that Arthur had gone to Mordred instead of him. That Mordred could be Arthur's confidante on magic, his secret so open and unremarkable.  _Whose fault is that?_ his brain chided.  _Arthur has no idea you have magic because you've lied to him._

Arthur kept going. "So I went to Mordred and asked him to tell me everything he knew about magic. And..what he said..." He swallowed. "I realized we had been so wrong all these years. What he told me flew in the face of everything my father had taught me, but it made sense. Finally, someone was telling me the truth."

And didn't that send a stab of pain through Merlin's heart. _Finally, someone was telling me the truth._ That all along, he had been so wrapped up in trying to  _prove_ to Arthur that magic was good that he had never even thought of simply  _telling_ Arthur about magic. Of course, how could he when he had hidden his own magic? Arthur wouldn't take the word of a simple peasant as an authority on magic. But surely, somewhere along the line, someone could have explained it to him? Surely he would have listened to Gauis, who was both knowledgeable and trusted. So why, why, in all these years, had no one just  _told him?_ Why did everyone feel the need to lie to Arthur as if he was incapable of reason? These thoughts flashed like a revelation through Merlin's mind, so swift and abrupt in their clarity that he felt dizzy. He tried to focus on what Arthur was saying as he continued.

"I immediately knew that I had made a grave mistake in rejecting magic. I realized that we had persecuted and hunted innocent men, women, and children, and sown such fear and hatred against magic that it was tearing the kingdom apart. That is not the kind of kingdom that I want to rule."

Arthur shifted, his eyes glancing down for a second. "You were still in Ealdor, but I went to Gwen and asked her for her counsel. She affirmed my beliefs, and has been starting to look through the old laws so that we may revise them. I wasn't going to bring it up with the council so soon, but it simply felt like the right time. However, many of those on the council are from my father's reign. It will take time and effort to convince them of the integrity of this decision. Playing on their fears of Morgana and the benefit of using magic against her was the easiest way to gain their approval. I admit, I may have spoken too honestly after Lord Aelfred's comment, but thankfully they still agreed."

He reached out and put a hand on Merlin's shoulder, quirking his lips. "And that, Merlin, is why I want to lift the ban on magic. Because it is the right thing to do, and because sorcerers have lived in fear too long." He stared into Merlin's eyes as if searching for his approval.

Merlin nodded. He smiled, struggling to hold back tears. He nodded again, not trusting himself to speak. This was everything he had ever wished for, yet it felt like a hollow victory. Here Arthur was accepting magic after all these years, and he hadn't had anything to do with it in the end. So much for destiny. His heart pounded with the desire to tell Arthur of his magic, but he couldn't do it. Arthur accepted magic, yes, but there was still the years of lies and betrayal to contend with. He couldn't ruin everything just as something was going right. He would wait until people with magic were safe before breaking Arthur's heart. He promised himself he would tell Arthur soon. Soon.

With a squeeze of Merlin's shoulder, Arthur swept from the room. Merlin waited a second to collect himself before following. Gods help him, he would follow Arthur to the ends of the earth.

 

 

When they reached the training grounds, the knights were already warming up. Gwaine gave Merlin a cheery wave and a wink from across the field, his long hair rippling in the warm breeze. Gwen was sitting on a bench on the sidelines, sewing a design in a square of fabric. She looked up as Merlin drew near, setting her sewing aside. 

"Merlin!" she exclaimed brightly. She patted the spot next to her. "Come sit down. It's such a lovely day, I thought I would sit outside and watch for a bit. It gets awfully stuffy in that castle," she confided, lowering her voice.

Merlin laughed. "Missing your days as a servant?"

Gwen looked sheepish. "Is it insane if I say yes?"

Merlin shook his head. "No. No Gwen, it's not. Power.. is a weighty thing. Everyone looking to you for answers; expecting you to solve everything when you don't really have any idea what you're doing most of the time. Making choices that you don't even know if they're right choices, and maybe that one thing is the thing that's going to bring everything crashing down but how do you know what's the right choice to make, and is it even your choice to make and what if you're wrong but what if you're right and sometimes you just wish you didn't even have to make those choices at all and you feel trapped and like you have no control over anything and sometimes don't even know if you have a choice at all." He stopped abruptly, taking a moment to breathe after the onslaught of words.  _I shouldn't have said that._

Gwen just looked over, a wry smile on her lips. "We are still talking about me, right?"

"Er..yes?" Merlin replied hesitantly. He sighed, "I'm sorry, Gwen. It must be hard being Queen, especially when you're used to being a servant. I know even being an advisor felt like a huge leap from where I had been previously and I don't know how you do it." He grabbed her hand. "But you are an amazing Queen, Gwen. Honestly, you're doing great. The people love you."

Gwen smiled warmly, squeezing Merlin's hand. "Thank you, Merlin. You're my dearest friend, you know that right?"

He nodded, grinning. "Of course I do."

Her eyes turned serious. "Just know that I'm here for you Merlin. Whatever it is, you can always tell me. Always."

Merlin shifted uncomfortably. Her sudden intensity unnerved him, but he wasn't sure what to make of it. She must have picked up on his sullen mood lately and thought (correctly) that something was wrong. She always could read him like a book.

He nodded seriously but didn't meet her eyes. "Thank you, Gwen." He squeezed her hand again and she squeezed back. She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, hands still clasped between them. They stayed like that for the rest of training, warm and comfortable in the spring sunshine as they talked about nothing and everything, Gwen's comforting presence a balm on Merlin's aching soul.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen= the Queen of my heart, and Gwen and Merlin = ultimate BFFs


	14. Chapter 14

As the training session drew to a close and knights filed towards the castle, Merlin was startled by a voice in his head.

_"Emrys, I need to talk to you."_

He sat up abruptly, dislodging Gwen from his shoulder. Mordred. 

"What, what is it?' she asked worriedly, looking around. 

"Oh, er, nothing." He replied. "Just thought I saw something."

 _"What is it?"_ He responded warily. He glanced across the field to see Mordred lagging behind the knights, looking at him.

Gwen was still looking at him in concern. She followed his gaze to Mordred and then back to Merlin. Her face smoothed out and she patted him on the shoulder. 

"Well, I must be going but thank you, Merlin, for the lovely afternoon. We should do this again soon."

He nodded distractedly, shooting her a smile as he waved her off. She retreated towards the castle, throwing him one last look over her shoulder.

 _"I told Arthur about Emrys."_ Mordred said.

Merlin felt anger and fear rise up in him. " _You did what?!"_ He started moving towards the armory, his path converging with Mordred's.

He saw Mordred wince out of the corner of his eye. They reached the hallway leading to the armory and Merlin grabbed Mordred, pushing him into a deserted room. He closed the door behind them, advancing on Mordred.

"What did you do?" he accused, speaking out loud.

Mordred looked intimidated but resolute. "I did not reveal your secret, Merlin. But Arthur needed to know. I told him of the prophecy."

"What exactly did you tell him?" Merlin demanded. 

Mordred swallowed. "I told him that he was the Once and Future King who would unite all of Albion, and that Emrys was destined to stand by his side, bringing magic back to the land. He knows that Emrys has been protecting him for years, and that he is magic itself. But I did not betray you, Merlin. I would never do that." He stared earnestly into Merlin's eyes, his young face open and honest.

Merlin relaxed, blowing out a breath. He studied Mordred, so young and innocent. In the end, he had been the one to convince Arthur to accept magic, to accept Merlin. Did he really deserve the mistrust that Merlin had heaped on him? Merlin had been blindly hating Mordred for the vision he had seen, when he knew that that was only one possible future. Mordred had proved his loyalty when he had saved Arthur's life not once, but twice now. If Arthur accepted magic, wouldn't the Disir's judgement be reversed? Wouldn't Mordred no longer be fated to kill Arthur? Maybe if magic were free, Mordred would have no reason to turn against Arthur. Besides, hadn't he learned his lesson from Morgana? His distrust had only made her feel alone and afraid, and pushed her into Morgause's arms. When he had seen the future in the crystals, he had inadvertently made that future happen by the actions he took to prevent it. He had been acting just as badly as Uther, condemning someone for something they could not control.

He suddenly saw Mordred in a different light. Mordred had been right. The love that bound them was more important than the power they wielded. Mordred was his kin. He was the only one who could truly understand Merlin, and he had pushed him away. This small child that he had saved had turned into a compassionate, brave youth who had more than proved his loyalty to both Arthur and Merlin. It was time to wash away the sins of the past and take control of the future. 

He smiled. "Thank you, Mordred. I believe you. You were right to tell him." He took a breath. "I want to apologize for how I've been treating you. I have been blaming you for something that you haven't done, and that was wrong. You have shown me nothing but loyalty, and I am grateful. If you would forgive me, I would like to be friends."

Mordred's face lit up, the youthful expression shining with joy. "I should wish for nothing more, Emrys. I was wrong as a child, when I said that I would never forgive and never forget. I did not understand the hard decisions you had to make, and that was said in a moment of anger. You are forgiven. You have always been forgiven."

He reached out his arm and Merlin clasped it.  _"I would also love to talk to you about magic,"_ Merlin said into Mordred's mind.  _"Arthur is lifting the ban."_

Mordred's eyes shone.  _"I had hoped, but I didn't know for sure. It seems the time of the Once and Future King is finally dawning."_

Merlin reached out and clapped him on the shoulder, turning towards the door.  _"We're going to be free, Mordred. Also, I think I like mind-speech. Quite handy, this."_

Mordred laughed out loud.  _"Oh, you have no idea."_

They walked to the armory, laughing as they traded silent jokes. The knights were just leaving, changed out of their armor. Arthur looked up as they walked in.

"Merlin. Mordred." His brow furrowed in confusion. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, I was just telling Mordred how you still can't dress yourself," Merlin replied. 

Mordred was trying and failing to hold in his laughter as Arthur glared at Merlin. " _Mer_ lin doesn't know what he's talking about, Sir Mordred. I assure you I am perfectly capable of dressing myself."

 _"One time, he tried to dress himself and ended up wearing Guinevere's nightgown,"_ Merlin told Mordred.  _"She doesn't even live in the same hall!"_

Mordred choked, his face turning red. Merlin stared up at the ceiling and bit his lip as he made a valiant effort not to laugh.

Arthur looked between Merlin and Mordred in bemusement before shaking his head, throwing his hands up. "I have a trial to get to. I trust Sir Mordred also knows how to dress himself, and will be perfectly fine getting out of his armor _alone_." He turned and walked out of the armory. "Merlin!" he called.

"Yes, my lord!" Merlin responded, mouth still twitching in amusement.  _"Better go see to His Royal Pratness before he gets really angry."_

"MERLIN!"

_"Like now."_

He turned and ran after Arthur, Mordred shooting him a  _"good luck, Emrys"_ on his way out.

 

The trial Arthur had to preside over, incidentally, was about magic. A thin wisp of a boy was dragged in, no more than eight summers old. His mousy brown hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat and wide hazel eyes gazed around the hall in terror. He was visibly shaking, little whimpers escaping his mouth as the guards roughly deposited him on the floor. He knelt where he fell, shrinking in on himself as if to make himself even smaller than he was. 

Merlin saw Arthur's mouth twitch in a scowl before he spoke angrily. "What is the meaning of this? He's just a boy. Un-cuff him immediately."

The guards hesitated. One brave one spoke up. "Sire, he is a sorcerer. He is dangerous." Merlin's heart squeezed in his chest.

Arthur's scowl deepened. "And what heinous crime has he committed?"

The guards looked at each other in bewilderment. "He was caught using magic, my lord."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "But what was he doing with it?" He sounded exasperated.

There was a pause. "Well, he made a light."

"A light." Arthur repeated, deadpan.

The guards looked distinctly uncomfortable. They gestured and a woman came forward. "There was a witness."

The woman bowed, looking over at the child in disgust. "It was magic, my lord. The _sorcerer_ ," she spat the word, "was playing with the children outside my home yesterday evening when they lost a toy. He conjured an unnatural light in the very palm of his hand to find it. There could be no doubt what it was. I'm sure his witch of a mother had taught him the evil art before she died. I feared for my life, sire, and the lives of the children."  _I'm sure you did,_ Merlin thought.  _A light, how terrifying._

Arthur suddenly looked very old. "A light," he repeated sadly. "A light. And did this light in any way harm you or the children?"

"Well, no, sire, but magic can corrupt even the purest of hearts. This sorcerer has obviously been overcome by the evil force, and it will spread if he is not eradicated."

Arthur sighed. "That is what you have been taught, but it is not true. Magic no more corrupts than a sword does. The laws on magic are changing." Merlin felt a twinge of pride. He stood up, walking down the steps until he stood in front of the boy. "What is your name?"

The boy looked up with wide eyes. "B-Benton, my lord," he said in a tremulous voice.

"Benton, can you tell me what happened?" Arthur asked, not unkindly.

"Well, w-we were playing in the street. It was dark, and we lost the ball. My mama taught me how to make a light in my hand, so I did and found the ball. B-but then the guards came and took me away. I didn't know it was wrong, I swear! I just wanted to make a light. I'm not dangerous, I'm not." The boy was sobbing now, tears sliding down his face and gasps punctuating each word. "I'm sorry! Please don't make me burn like my mama. I don't want to die."

The pain inside Merlin threatened to overtake him. He knew exactly how this boy felt, the overwhelming terror of the pyre that had haunted his nightmares as a child. The only difference was that he hadn't been caught, and he hadn't lived in Camelot. The small village of Ealdor was a less terrifying place for a magical child to grow up than the heart of Camelot, where executions were a common affair. 

Arthur looked as pained as Merlin, something shattered in his expression. He looked up and met Merlin's gaze across the hall, his eyes speaking volumes about the horror and sadness he felt.

He knelt down in front of the sobbing child. "You're not going to die. I promise. There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm sorry this has happened to you."

The child looked up, his sobs abating. "R-really?"

Arthur nodded. "You have committed no crime. Magic is nothing to be ashamed of." He stood and addressed the hall. "The laws on magic are being changed. Magic itself will no longer be a crime, and punishment will be merited on one's actions alone. Our old laws would have us execute a child, and for what? A simple light? What harm has this boy ever done anyone?" He paused and looked around. Merlin could see the realization on many faces in the hall, their faces turning to the boy thoughtfully. It helped that the boy looked so small and harmless and adorable. His round, tear-stained face was enough to strike affection into the hardest of hearts, and Merlin saw many eyes soften as they looked at him. As they started to see him as a child, not a sorcerer.

Arthur waved at the guards. "Unshackle him." This time they acquiesced, removing the heavy cuffs. Arthur looked at the boy again. "Do you have a place to go?"

The boy nodded his head, rubbing his wrists. "I live with my aunt."

"Then you will be escorted safely back to you aunt by Merlin here." He pointed to where Merlin was standing.

Merlin jerked in surprise, looking at Arthur in confusion. Arthur wanted him to escort the boy home? Why wouldn't the guards-oh. The guards would undoubtedly treat the boy with suspicion and even malice because of his magic, while Merlin was decidedly unthreatening.

Merlin gave the boy a smile and a small wave, weaving through the hall until he stood next to him. The boy relaxed, returning the smile shyly. Merlin gave Arthur a nod.

Arthur returned the nod. He addressed the hall again. "The changes to the law are being worked on as we speak, and will be announced as soon as possible. In the meantime, all magical crimes are to be brought to me first before any judgement or condemnation is made. Court is dismissed."

With that he strode out of the hall, the members of the court trickling out after him. There was a buzz of conversation among all of the members, some shooting looks over their shoulder at the boy and whispering to their fellow courtesans animatedly. As the doors shut behind the last member, Merlin set a hand on the boy's shoulder, prompting him to look up. He looked nervous, as if expecting Merlin to do something to him. Merlin made a split-second decision, looking around the hall to make sure they were alone. He knelt down in front of the boy. Cupping his hands, he murmured a spell.

"Gerwyc an lif." The boy stared at him in shock as his eyes turned gold. Releasing his hands, a bright blue butterfly flew out, it's wings flapping softly as it circled around the hall. The boy squealed in delight, his laughter chiming like bells in the empty hall. His eyes followed the path of the butterfly in wonder, his previous fear forgotten. The space inside Merlin's heart filled just a little, the feeling warm and right. He stretched out a hand and the butterfly came back to land on a finger. He stood up, placing his other hand on the boy's shoulder again.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked.

The boy nodded, smiling. Merlin gently ushered him out of the hall, walking beside him until they were outside the castle. Then, with a tiny push of his magic, he nudged the butterfly off his finger. It took off into the open air, soon disappearing from sight as it flew away.

The boy's aunt greeting them at her door, crying when she saw Benton. "Oh, my boy!" she exclaimed, running to hug him tight. "I thought they had taken you away from me too." She looked up and saw Merlin. "Thank you for bringing him back to me," she said tearfully, "but what happened?"

Merlin explained what had happened, and that the laws on magic were changing. She looked stunned, a hand over her mouth.

"I never thought...I can't believe it. Thank you."

"Auntie, he has magic too!" Benton piped up. "He made a butterfly!"

She looked at Merlin in surprise and disbelief. "You have magic?"

He nodded. "But please, don't tell anyone. No one knows."

She nodded quickly, her face showing she understood. "You have my word. No one will find out from us."

With a last ruffle of Benton's hair and mutual thank you's exchanged, he finally left the boy to his aunt's ministrations. His heart felt light, the happy ending to what would previously be a tragedy filling him with hope and pride for all Arthur was trying to do. Not a month previously, that little boy might have been executed for a simple light, and Merlin would be again pushing down the feelings of helpless rage and sorrow at the senseless death. Now, Arthur was wholeheartedly embracing magic, and Merlin found himself looking forward to the future for the first time in months.

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

By the time Merlin had returned from seeing the boy safely home, Arthur had completed the freeman's ceremony and just had to get ready for the banquet that evening. The trial had shaken him, his mind unable to shake the image it had conjured of Merlin in the boy's place. It had only driven home his belief that the pervasive hatred and fear of magic was unwarranted. The boy had done naught but conjure a harmless light, and for that his father would have seen him burn. He had sent Merlin to walk the boy home in hopes that Merlin would be able to share his magic with him. It would both reassure the boy, and hopefully give Merlin a chance to share his secret with someone that was like him. They both deserved that after the terror that Arthur had unknowingly inflicted on them.

When Merlin walked into Arthur's chambers, he looked happy for the first time in months. There was a sparkle in his eyes and a bounce in his step that reminded Arthur of the old Merlin, before the heartache and years of lies. Something inside him unlocked at the sight, the curl of anxiety that had rested in his heart since he began this whole ordeal dissipating. He had done something right. Merlin was happy.

"I take it the boy is home safe," he commented, eyeing Merlin as he began to draw the tub into the corner of the room.

"Yes, sire. His aunt was very grateful to have him home." He paused in his work, looking at Arthur. His expression softened. "What you did for that boy...you did the right thing."

"I know," said Arthur. "Honestly, a light? Surely everyone can see how ridiculous the whole thing was. The boy couldn't hurt a fly."

Merlin nodded. "I doubt he even knew any other spells. Most sorcerers can't do much more than parlor tricks." He backpedaled, stuttering. "I-I mean, that's what I've heard, at least."

Arthur mentally prayed to the gods for strength, looking upwards. He was proud of the effort it took to restrain himself from cuffing Merlin upside the head. Luckily, Merlin had turned around to accept heated water from another servant, pouring it into the bath. Arthur had moderately composed himself by the time Merlin looked his way again, several more servants bringing buckets of water until the bath was full. When the servants left, Merlin helped Arthur out of his cloak and chainmail, setting them on the table. Arthur went behind the dressing screen to take off his trousers and shirt as Merlin got out the soaps. Merlin turned around until Arthur got into the bath and then handed him the soaps, going to sit at the table. As Arthur bathed, Merlin inspected his chainmail for damage, his nimble fingers running over the links as he squinted at it closely. Arthur had never had to tell Merlin to do this, and supposed it was just part of Merlin's overdeveloped protective instinct. He smiled at the thought.

When Arthur was sufficiently bathed, Merlin gave him a towel to dry off and draped his clothes over the dressing screen. When he had gotten into his shirt and trousers Merlin helped him with the gambeson and chainmail and handed him his belt. Finally, the cloak was flung over his shoulders, Merlin clasping the ceremonial stays with practiced ease. He was so close Arthur could see every individual eyelash, fluttering with the movement of his eyes. He finished the stays and stepped back, breaking the spell.

Arthur flushed, suddenly feeling off-balance. He cleared his throat. "Ready to go?"

Merlin nodded. "We have to stop by Gwen's chambers to pick her and Lancelot up, and then we can go to the Great Hall. I ran into Leon earlier and he said Lord Aelfwick of Brennick arrived this afternoon while we were in court, but Gwen handled everything. All you have to do is go to the banquet tonight and then re-sign the treaty tomorrow."

Arthur nodded. "Let's just hope everything goes smoothly. The trade we enjoy with Lord Aelfwick is critical to the kingdom. That treaty must be signed."

 

 

Gwen was resplendent in a beautiful blue gown, hair spilling down her back in gentle waves. Lancelot gazed at her as if she hung the moon, sitting on her left at the high table. Arthur sat on Gwen's other side with Merlin on his right, who was getting more and more drunk as the night wore on. Banquets were always an excuse for everyone to get drunk. Even Lord Aelfwick was gesticulating wildly, telling some story in a loud and slightly slurred voice, and Gwaine was drunkenly trying to arm wrestle Percival. Merlin on the other hand usually abstained from wine. Arthur had a feeling that Merlin had never actually been in the tavern all those times, and had no tolerance for alcohol. It seemed Merlin was finally letting loose a bit and indulging, which Arthur couldn't blame him for. However, now he had a drunk Merlin on his hands, and no idea what to do.  

As the banquet drew to a close, Arthur bid his guests goodnight and exited the hall, Merlin stumbling behind him. He sighed in exasperation as Merlin ran into the doorway, rubbing his shoulder with a confused grimace. He grabbed Merlin by the arm and firmly guided him down the hallway, Merlin not protesting in his drunken state. He leaned into Arthur, smiling stupidly. 

"You're amazing," he slurred. "Legaldize..legaliziding magic. So great."

Arthur chuckled. "You think so?"

Merlin nodded animatedly, his head bobbing up and down and throwing him off balance again as they entered Arthur's chambers and stopped. "The pro-hic-phecy. Once and Future King." He turned and poked a finger into Arthur's chest. He appeared to be rapidly entering the next stage of drunkenness, his face starting to look downcast and sleepy. "Just want to...keep you safe." He punctuated this with another poke of his finger in Arthur's chest but flattened his hand, resting it over Arthur's heart and closing his eyes. Arthur tentatively reached up and placed his hand over Merlin's.

Then suddenly Merlin took his wrenched his hand away and flung himself drunkenly at Arthur, hugging him tightly. Arthur staggered in shock, arms flailing as Merlin's weight nearly bowled him over. He sighed, reaching up to awkwardly pat Merlin on the back.

"Merlin?" he questioned hesitantly.

Merlin continued to squeeze him, turning his head to the side on Arthur's chest.

"So tired," he mumbled. Somehow Arthur knew he wasn't talking about sleep.

Gently, he pried a now incognizant Merlin away from his chest and maneuvered them across the room to his bed. Merlin flopped down immediately, eyes closed. With a sigh, Arthur set about removing Merlin's boots, telling himself it was so he wouldn't track dirt on his bed. Then he struggled for a while but finally divested Merlin of his jacket, leaving him in just a tunic and trousers. He moved to untie Merlin's ever-present neckerchief, not wanting it to choke him during the night. As he lifted it away from Merlin's throat, a silvery scar drew his attention. It was low on his neck, just above the line of his shoulders, and wrapped around the front and left side of his neck in a straight path. It looked like someone had taken a blade to his neck, and Arthur shuddered at the implication. No wonder Merlin wore neckerchiefs all the time.

He carefully folded the garments, setting them on the table. Then he drew the covers up over Merlin, who was already passed out. Blowing out the candles, he got into the other side of the bed, careful to leave room between them. He couldn't say why he hadn't just taken Merlin to his own room, except that he wanted to keep an eye on him in his drunken state. A tinier part deep inside him offered up another reason, but he pushed it down.

He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he was woken by a sound. Years of training made him instantly alert, scanning the room for threats. He heard another noise and turned, realizing it was Merlin who had woken him. He was shifting with agitation in his sleep, little whimpers passing his lips and face twitching in distress. Arthur froze, unsure of what to do. Merlin's thrashing grew worse, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. The air felt thick and heavy, a prickling sensation moving along Arthur's skin. Suddenly a candle burst into flame next to the bed. Arthur startled, staring at it in shock. He looked over at Merlin, now seeing a faint golden glow beneath his fluttering eyelids. He sat frozen, completely at a loss for what to do. Merlin was having a nightmare. Merlin was doing magic in his sleep. This was beyond anything he knew how to deal with. 

He finally gathered his courage and touched Merlin gently on the shoulder.

"Merlin, wake up," he whispered. Nothing happened. He shook Merlin by the shoulder. "Merlin, wake up." Merlin still wasn't waking up, the air beginning to feel suffocating and pinpricks like licks of flame racing along Arthur's skin. He leaned over and grabbed Merlin by both shoulders, shaking him harshly. "Merlin, wake up!"

Merlin gasped and his eyes suddenly shot open, the irises molten gold. It faded as he took in Arthur, clear blue replacing the gold. He was trembling, breaths coming in pants.

"Arthur?" he said confusedly, the words slurred.

Arthur swallowed. "It was a nightmare, Merlin. Go back to sleep."

Merlin still looked confused but didn't protest in his muddled state. Arthur started to withdraw but Merlin grabbed his hand, keeping him close.

"Stay with me?" he whispered. He looked vulnerable, eyes wide with lingering fear as he stared at Arthur pleadingly.

And Arthur laid down next to Merlin, settling their shoulders together, their hands still linked between them. He heard Merlin's breaths even out in sleep, his body warm against Arthur's side. 

"Always," he whispered into the still air, a lone candle his only witness.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rough draft of this chapter, may edit later!


	16. Chapter 16

Arthur woke to a warm weight against his side, soft puffs of air tickling his neck. An arm was flung across his body possessively, Merlin's face inches away from Arthur's own. His leg was thrown over Arthur's, effectively trapping him in place. Arthur's arm tingled where it lay under Merlin, but he didn't move. Instead he hesitantly reached over with his free hand, tracing patterns on Merlin's back with light strokes as he thought. Merlin sighed and shifted in his sleep, tightening his hold on Arthur. He looked so peaceful now, far from the nightmare that Arthur had witnessed last night. It hurt, to think about what Merlin might see in his dreams, what horrors might haunt his mind. There was also the magic. The combination of nightmares and magic brought up images of Morgana, and Arthur had to forcefully remind himself that Merlin wasn't her. He would never turn against Arthur, and Arthur would make sure he never lived in fear again. Still, the parallels weighed heavy on his heart, regret and sorrow once again flooding in. He realized his hand had stopped on Merlin's back and resumed, the repetitive motion grounding him.

Arthur laid there for a while before Merlin started to wake, fingers twitching and breaths changing in their pattern. Arthur continued to trace patterns against Merlin's back until Merlin cracked open his eyes, squinting blearily at Arthur.

"Tell anyone about this and I'll throw you in the stocks," Arthur said, but his voice lacked any bite.

He let his arm fall to the side as Merlin pulled away and sat up, cheeks darkening with color. Merlin brought his hand up to his forehead, wincing in pain. Arthur's side felt cold without Merlin there.

"Wha' happened last night?" he croaked incredulously. "I feel like I got run over by a horse." He squinted at Arthur, one hand still to his head.

"What happened is that you can't hold your drink." He paused. "What do you remember?" he asked cautiously. He prayed Merlin wouldn't remember everything that had happened last night.

Merlin's face crinkled in confusion. "We were at the banquet, and then...I really have no idea." His eyes widened and he suddenly looked at Arthur with apprehension. "Um, why am I in your bed?"

It was Arthur's turn to blush. He cleared his throat. "Well obviously, Merlin, you were quite inebriated. You must have thought it was you bed by accident. I simply couldn't be bothered to drag you off." He affected an air of nonchalance.

"Right," Merlin said, looking relieved. "Right, well..." He got out of bed, suddenly turning to face Arthur suspiciously. "Then where are my boots?" His hand went up to his neck and his eyes widened. "And my neckerchief!" His hand hovered around his neck, trying to cover the scar.

"They're on the table," Arthur replied, trying not to look at Merlin's neck. 

"Right," Merlin said. "On the table." He edged around the bed and awkwardly picked up his boots and neckerchief with one hand, his other still covering his neck. He studied them intently before turning to Arthur suspiciously. "Wait, whyare they get on the table?"

Arthur shifted uncomfortably under Merlin's scrutiny. "I am the King of Camelot, and do not have to answer to the likes of you," he responded imperiously.

Merlin raised his eyebrows, giving Arthur a  _look._ Arthur inwardly cursed Gaius. Then he shook his head, rolling his eyes before turning and walking into his own quarters, closing the door behind him. Arthur flopped back on the bed, covering his face with his hands as his insides roiled in mortification.

 

 

The first half of day passed in a haze of relative normalcy. By the time Merlin had gotten Arthur ready that morning, his hangover had seemed non-existent. Arthur chalked it up to the whole "made of magic"/immortality thing. It had to have some benefits. Midmorning, Arthur re-signed the treaty with Lord Aelfwick and sent him on his way, pleased with the outcome. It was quickly becoming a beautiful spring day, the sun warm and bright overhead in the cloudless blue sky. With no pressing responsibilities to attend to that afternoon, Arthur decided to go on a hunt. He wanted to just spend the day with Merlin, relearning his closest friend now that he knew about the magic.

By midday they were riding out, the clip-clop of the horses' hooves and faint chirping of birds the only sound in the peaceful stillness of the forest. They rode side by side, neither feeling the need to speak in the comfortable silence. Arthur inhaled, relishing in the sweet-smelling air of the forest after so long in the castle grounds. Even Merlin appeared to be enjoying himself, although he had grumbled when Arthur said they were going hunting. Arthur didn't even care if he caught anything, as long as he could enjoy an afternoon away from the never-ending duties of being King. As the afternoon passed they wandered deep into the forest, exploring parts Arthur had rarely gone to.

He was just about to tell Merlin they should stop and eat when he heard the snap of a twig to his right. In an instant, armed mercenaries were pouring down the slope, battle cries rending the air. Arthur drew his sword, but he knew it was too late. The mercenaries surrounded them, swords and crossbows pointed inwards. Arthur saw Merlin tense beside him, no doubt prepared to use his magic if they struck. However, the mercenaries stayed put, one man stepping forward. 

"Arthur Pendragon," he sneered. "The Lady Morgana will be very pleased to see you."

Arthur froze, ice filling his veins. He snuck a glance over at Merlin, whose face showed equal amounts of dread and fear.

_Do something, Merln,_ he thought.  _Use your magic._

But Merlin did nothing as the bandits yanked them from their horses and bound their hands, yanking them forwards.

"Walk," the leader ordered. They began trudging up the slope, the mercenaries surrounding them on all sides. Arthur only felt reassured knowing Merlin would never let him be hurt, even if it meant revealing his magic. He could only hope fate would grant them a chance to escape before they came face to face with Morgana.

They walked the rest of the afternoon, any attempt to speak to each other met by sharp blows. By the time they entered the mercenaries' camp that evening the soles of Arthur's feet were throbbing, his stomach rumbling with hunger. Merlin looked no better, exhaustion evident in his stumbling steps and his face creased in worry. The mercenaries finally shoved Merlin and Arthur to the ground near the edge of camp. First they dragged Arthur to one of the trees, undoing his bonds and bringing his hands behind him. Then they tied him to the tree with his back against it and legs stretched in front of him, also bound. A piece of cloth was thrust in his mouth and tied around his head as a gag. They repeated the process with Merlin on a second tree so that Merlin and Arthur sat facing each other, feet almost touching. Arthur remained stoic and calm through the entire process, not showing any fear. Merlin, on the other hand, was glaring at the mercenaries in open defiance. If looks could kill, the bandits would be turned to dust. Arthur reminded himself morbidly that Merlin's looks could literally kill. 

Once they were secure, the leader stepped forward, a mad grin spreading across his face as he rubbed his hands together. "The great King Arthur." He chuckled, giving a mocking bow. "Not so high and mighty now, are we?"

Arthur did nothing, staring ahead determinedly. He saw Merlin's face darken, his eyes narrowing in anger. The leader turned towards Merlin, regarding him with interest. "And who do we have here?" He crouched down in front of Merlin, pulling the cloth out of his mouth and studying him as Merlin glared in hatred. "A servant perhaps? Wouldn't you rather serve someone who treats you well?" He pulled a sack of gold out of his pocket and shook it in front of Merlin. "What do you say you join the cause? Spill a few of those precious secrets you servants always hear." 

Merlin's gaze hardened, his eyes moving to meet the man's. "I would die before I betray Arthur or Camelot. I will never tell you anything."

Arthur couldn't see the leader's expression, but a second later his hand moved, a resounding  _thwack_ ringing through the camp as he struck Merlin across the cheek. Merlin's head snapped to the side with the force of the blow, a bright red imprint on his cheek. Arthur strained against his bonds fruitlessly, seething with anger.  _Use your magic Merlin!_ he mentally yelled. How could Merlin sit there and let himself be hurt when he could crush these men in a heartbeat?

Merlin simply sat and glared at the leader, face resolute. Arthur wanted to scream in frustration. 

The bandit leader glance over at Arthur before turning back to Merlin. "Such loyalty. Lets see how your master repays you for that loyalty, shall we?"

He withdrew a knife from his belt, grabbing Merlin's shirt and slicing through it in one motion before repeating the motion with his neckerchief. The two halves of his shirt fell apart and he pulled them off Merlin's arms, throwing them to the side. When he shifted, Arthur got a full view of Merlin's chest and gasped at the sight, eyes widening in horror. 

The thing that drew his eye first was a large circular burn scar that encompassed most of Merlin's chest. The burn that caused it must have been severe and extremely painful, the skin twisted and shiny. Overlaying that, another lump of scar tissue sat along his collarbone. Arthur suddenly remembered the mace wound before Merlin had disappeared years ago, returning covered in mud and miraculously healed. A barely healed wound as if from an arrow decorated Merlin's left side, while various slashes and scars littered his entire torso. The amount of scars rivaled Arthur, who had been fighting since he was just a child. Merlin's body told a story of dozens of injuries, each more horrific to think about than the last. And Arthur had never known. Had passed Merlin's pained grimaces off as clumsiness, his unexplained absences as trips to the tavern. What had Merlin been doing to gain so many scars?

No simple servant should ever have that many scars, and the leader knew it. He backed up, staring at Merlin's chest. "Who the hell are you?" he asked. 

Arthur saw Merlin swallow, his eyes flitting to Arthur in trepidation. "I'm just Arthur's servant," he replied. It sounded weak even to Arthur's ears.

The bandit shook his head. He pointed to the burn on Merlin's chest. "That burn was made by magic. No natural fire could do that." He drew his sword and leveled it at Merlin's, where a scar already adorned his pale throat. His blade pressed into Merlin's windpipe, a trickle of blood beginning to flow. "How did you get that? Who are you?"

Merlin stared back defiantly. "I told you. I serve Arthur." His voice was hoarse around the sword cutting off his air.

Suddenly the bandit whirled around, pointing the blade at Arthur. "Maybe you'll tell me when the life of your precious King is threatened." Merlin's eyes widened, looking at Arthur fearfully. Arthur wanted to tell Merlin that it was okay, that he could use his magic, but the gag prevented him from speaking. The leader pressed the blade to the hollow of Arthur's shoulder.

 "Three, two, one.." He began to press inward with the blade, Arthur gritting his teeth against the pain. He looked across to Merlin, who's eyes suddenly looked resigned.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed at Arthur.

The his eyes flashed and the leader went flying backwards, landing on the ground with a thump. Arthur exhaled, the pressure on his shoulder finally relieved. Merlin had undone his bindings, standing up and moving in front of Arthur. Mercenaries around the camp were rushing towards them, swords flashing.

"Sorcerer!" someone shouted. 

Merlin started chanting. Then he knelt, slamming his hand against the ground. A shockwave rippled through the camp, every single mercenary flying through the air until they landed on the ground, unmoving.

A hushed silence falling over the camp only broken by the sounds of harsh breathing where Merlin still knelt. The ropes binding Arthur fell away and he jumped up, removing his gag and moving to kneel in front of Merlin. Merlin was hyperventilating, crying messily as he stared at the ground.

"I'm sorry," he said brokenly, chest heaving with sobs. "I'm a sorcerer. I have magic. And I use it for you Arthur, only for you." He trembled as he looked up, his eyes pleading, tears streaming down his face.

Arthur grabbed his shoulders, looking Merlin in the eye. "I know Merlin. I know, and I'm sorry."

Merlin looked heartbreakingly confused. "W-what?" He searched Arthur's eyes. "You knew?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, Merlin. I've known for a few days." He squeezed Merlin's shoulders. "And it's okay. It's okay. You don't have to hide any more."

Merlin let out a breathy sob. "You knew. You knew and you don't- you don't hate me?"

"No Merlin," Arthur said. "I love you."

The admission slipped from him unbidden but true, Merlin staring at him with wide eyes as Arthur held his breath.

"You love me?" Merlin whispered. 

Arthur nodded, searching Merlin's eyes to try and discern his thoughts. Suddenly Merlin smiled, warm and tremulous, hitching a small breath. And then his mouth was crashing into Arthur's, kissing him passionately. Arthur melted into the kiss, bringing a hand up to cup Merlin's face.

Finally they broke apart, Arthur resting his forehead against Merlin's. They stayed like that for a minute, their breaths mingling in the space between them. Then Merlin drew back, looking at Arthur. 

"I still can't believe you knew," he murmured. "How did you find out?"

Arthur winced. "I kind of followed you when you went to visit the dragon a few nights ago."

Merlin stared at him in horror. "You heard all that?" he whispered.

Arthur nodded. "Everything."

"Oh gods." Merlin looked distraught, swallowing convulsively. 

"It's okay, Merlin," Arthur said. "I understand. I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped on you, but what you said-it really helped me understand. I think I wouldn't have taken it as well if I hadn't heard that, and I'm sorry for that."

Merlin looked taken aback. "I thought that hearing that would make you hate me. Releasing the dragon, Morgana..."

Arthur shook his head. "It wasn't your fault. I know what it is to make difficult decisions for the good of the kingdom. I'm not sure I would have done any different if I was in your place." He took Merlin by the shoulders, looking into his eyes seriously. "It wasn't your fault."

Merlin seemed to deflate, exhaling and closing his eyes for a second as he slumped under Arthur's hands. When he opened his eyes, they were shining with unshed tears. He nodded, lips pressed together. "Thank you."

"No Merlin, thank you." Arthur replied. Taking Merlin's chin, he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "But when we get back I want to know everything." He smiled at Merlin and he nodded, staring at Arthur with undisguised adoration.

Arthur stepped back, looking around. "We should probably get out of here."

"Agreed," Merlin said, looking around in distaste. He sighed. "We'll never make it back to Camelot before nightfall."

"Can't you, I don't know, do something?" Arthur asked, waving his hands around to indicate  _magic._

Merlin looked at him in exasperation. "I don't know any teleportation spells."

"Aren't you supposed to be, like, an all-powerful sorcerer or something?" Arthur said. "Can't you just-" he waved his hands "-' _poof'_ us somewhere?"

Merlin stared at him incredulously. "That's not how it works. I can't just ' _poof_   _'_ us somewhere. I need a spell."

Arthur threw up his hands. He promised himself that as soon as they got back he was making Merlin learn a teleportation spell. He thought that was arguably one of the most useful spells. Trapped? Teleport out. Caught by bandits? Teleport. Don't feel like walking somewhere? _Teleport._

"Fine. I suppose we'll just have to spend the night somewhere. Preferably as far away from here as possible."

They found their horses where the mercenaries had tied them at the edge of camp, all their supplies still intact. They eagerly ate some of their packed food, famished after their long ordeal. Merlin put on a spare shirt from one of the saddlebags, but his neckerchief was a lost cause. They started heading in the direction of Camelot as evening fell, trying to put as much distance between them and the camp as possible. They didn't know whether Morgana knew of the camp, or that they had captured Arthur, but couldn't be too safe.

Finally, they stopped in a small embankment, sheltered on either side from the elements. Tying the horses to nearby trees, they laid out their bedrolls on the ground next to each other in the bottom of the embankment. They carved out a fire pit in the ground and stacked wood, Merlin lighting the fire with magic. 

"Handy," Arthur commented. 

Merlin grinned.

They laid down side by side in front of the fire, the light playing over Merlin's face as Arthur looked over. He rolled onto his side, Merlin mirroring him until they lay facing each other, inches apart. 

"Hi," Arthur said softly.

Merlin's lips twitched. "Hi," he repeated.

Arthur's gaze flitted to his lips then back up, watching Merlin copy the motion. Then they were leaning in, mouths meeting in a soft kiss. Arthur's hand caressed Merlin's hip, bringing their bodies closer. When they pulled apart Merlin smiled sleepily before rolling over, pressing back against Arthur until they were locked in an embrace. He clasped Arthur's hand where it rested on his side, bringing it to his chest. Arthur sighed softly against the nape of Merlin's neck, feeling Merlin's heartbeat under his palm. He soon fell asleep, lulled by the crackling of the fire and Merlin, warm and safe in his arms.

 

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

Merlin and Arthur continued back to Camelot the next day, Merlin telling Arthur everything he could as they rode. He was still shocked not only at Arthur's acceptance but his revelation the day before. A small part inside him whispered that he didn't deserve it, that Arthur's love was too pure to be wasted on someone like him. The selfish part of him was happy, drinking in Arthur's praise and reassurance like a dying man in a desert. He told Arthur the most important things; the big victories and notable trials, the deciding moments in their history. Arthur listened with rapt attention, his face displaying a range of emotions at the stories that Merlin uncovered. Merlin had almost forgotten how much he had kept from Arthur over the years. He tried to be honest, but a lifetime of lies and the deep shame and horror that stained his heart made him skate over certain details, skimming the surface of tempestuous waters. He brushed over the people he'd killed, the wounds he'd received, the sheer horrors he'd seen. He'd been pushing these thoughts down for so long that they had been locked away, sealed behind impenetrable walls in his mind he dared not tear down. There were simply some things that the human mind could not handle.

Finally, Merlin ran out of words, exhausted from the hours of speaking. The sun was high in the sky by the time he had told Arthur all the major events, ending with Finna and her death. They rode in silence for a while, both taking time to digest. Arthur looked lost in thought, a pensive frown curving his mouth and eyebrows drawn together in contemplation.

Finally, he spoke. "All those years, Merlin. You never once sought any credit."

"That's not why I do it," Merlin replied. Arthur looked at him quizzically, a question in his eyes.  _Why did you do it?_ Merlin smiled. "It's my destiny, as it has been since the day we met."

A small smile quirked Arthur's lips, his eyes faraway. "I tried to take your head off with a mace."

"And I stopped you, using magic."

Arthur glanced over, scandalized. "You cheated!"

Merlin shrugged. "You were going to kill me."

Arthur looked down. "I don't think I could ever do that."

Merlin sobered, looking at Arthur intently once more. "I do this because of who you are. Without you Camelot's nothing."

Arthur scoffed. "There was a time when that was true. Not now. There are many who can fill the crown."

"There'll never be another like you, Arthur," Merlin said softly. "And I also do this because I love you, and I don't want to lose you."

It was the first time he'd said it out loud, the admission settling heavily between them.

Arthur looked at him, something unfathomable shining in his eyes. "There's something I want to say."

"If it's 'I love you,' I already know that," Merlin said cheekily.

Arthur shushed him, shaking his head. "I know now. Everything you've done-for me, for Camelot, for the kingdom you helped me build-" He trailed off.

"You'd have done it without me," Merlin said, hunching his shoulders.

Arthur shook his head again, chuckling wryly. "Maybe. _"_ He turned to look at Merlin. "I want to say something I've never really said to you enough.  _Thank you."_

The space inside Merlin's heart warmed for an instant, Arthur looking at him with soft fondness. For a moment, it was enough.  _He_ was enough.

 

As they rode into the castle, Gwen rushed out to meet them. She threw herself into Merlin's arms as soon as he dismounted, hugging him fiercely. Finally she drew back, her hands still gripping Merlin's arms as she looked him over critically. 

"I was so worried, what happened?" she questioned, her voice betraying her fear. He saw her eyes catch on his throat, where his scar lay uncovered by his neckerchief, then moved to his face, where a purple mark adorned his cheekbone from where he had been struck.

Arthur looked lost, glancing over at Merlin and widening his eyes in a silent _what do you want to tell her?_

"We were captured by mercenaries," Merlin supplied, keeping his voice level. "We managed to get away, but it took a while to get back to Camelot."

Gwen's hand went up to cover her mouth. "Oh dear. I sent out patrols but they couldn't find anything. I was worried sick. Are you all right?" She grabbed Merlin's chin and tilted his head, examining his cheek.

Merlin nodded, gently prying Gwen's hand off his face. "We're fine, Gwen. It's nothing."

She looked dubious but didn't press, turning to Arthur. "You'll have to let the council know you're back. I took care of all your duties for today, but everyone is still trying to find you. Leon should be back from patrol soon, and I'm sure he will be overjoyed to see you. We all are." She smiled, relief evident in her face.

"Thank you Gwen. I am certainly glad to be back. It's been a long couple of days, and I'm going to go have a bath and some dinner." He turned to Merlin, giving him a meaningful look. "I suggest you do the same and see Gaius, and then you can tell Gwen all about what happened tomorrow."

They had decided that Merlin should first tell Gwen about his magic, and then they would break it to trusted knights and councilors. The idea was that by the time the laws were fully in place regarding magic, Arthur would announce Merlin Court Sorcerer with as much support as possible. He knew it was a good idea, but the thought of so many people knowing about his magic made him feel ill. Not to mention that Gwen was his dearest friend, and he couldn't bear it if she didn't accept him.

Merlin nodded at Arthur, giving him a look to show he understood. A stable boy came to take their horses, leading them away across the courtyard. Merlin turned to Gwen, smiling nervously. "Can I come to your chambers tomorrow?"

She nodded, squeezing his hand. "Of course, Merlin. Go get some rest. You must be exhausted, poor thing."

Merlin squeezed back before dropping his hands, following Arthur into the entryway. He turned off in the opposite direction, burning with the desire to see Gaius and Daegal. Between moving closer to Arthur and everything that had happened, he had barely seen either of them since he'd gotten back from Ealdor. He needed to see Gaius especially, now that Arthur knew of his magic.

When he entered the physician's quarters Gaius and Daegal were bent over a book, a potion brewing merrily on the workbench. They looked up when Merlin came in, identical expressions of relief crossing their faces.

"Merlin! I was just beginning to worry," Gaius said, setting his glasses down. "Is Arthur alright?"

"I'm fine Gaius, thanks for asking," Merlin said sarcastically. Daegal shot him an apologetic look while Gaius just raised an eyebrow. "Arthur's alright, we just got held up by some mercenaries. Literally."

He plopped down on the bench, sighing. "Gaius, Arthur knows about my magic."

Gaius froze, expression alarmed. Daegal's eyes widened comically, darting around the room as if Arthur would come charging in any second. Merlin raised his hands in a calming gesture.

"It's alright. He's not executing me. He  _thanked_ me."

Gaius's eyebrows lowered to their normal position, a smile overtaking his face. "Oh my boy. I know how much you've always wanted this. This is great news."

Daegal nodded but still looked confused. "What happened? I thought you said you could never tell him. No offense," he added quickly, glancing at Merlin.

Merlin smiled. "None taken. I was as surprised as you are. But Gaius must have told you that Arthur was thinking about changing the laws, even before he knew of my magic. When he found out, he-I think he understood. He wasn't angry at all."

A wide grin broke out on Daegal's face. "So this means you're free. Everything you wanted, it's all coming true. You no longer have to lie to Arthur."

Merlin nodded, letting out a laugh. "Yes. Yes. Magic will be free." He turned to Gaius. "You know what this means, don't you?"

Gaius' nodded, eyes sparkling with joy. "It seems the time of the Once and Future King is now upon us." He leaned forward, bringing Merlin in for a brief hug. "I never doubted you, my boy. You deserve this. I am an old man, and will not live to see everything that you and Arthur will accomplish. But I have been blessed, for you are more than a son to me, and I can die knowing that you can finally be free. To live to see this day is everything I have dreamed."

Merlin's eyes watered and he hastily wiped them away with his hand, smiling at Gaius. "And you are more than a father to me. I could never have done everything if it wasn't for you."

And then they were all smiling so hard it hurt their faces, no eye dry. Someone began laughing and then everyone was, heads thrown back as they laughed and cried and exalted in joy. They soon subsided so Merlin could bathe while Gaius prepared his favorite dinner. When it was ready they sat around the table eating while Merlin told them everything that had happened, Gaius and Daegal leaning forward eagerly. They talked about magic for hours until Merlin's eyes were drooping, exhaustion overtaking him. The rollercoaster of emotions he had experienced in the past few days had caught up with him, and he finally begged off to sleep, hugging Gaius again and ruffling Daegal's hair.

When he entered Arthur's chambers Arthur was still up, sitting in bed and reading a piece of parchment. He smiled softly when Merlin entered, beckoning him over with a hand and patting the bed next to him. Merlin shyly toed off his boots, climbing into bed. Arthur set the parchment on the side table, laying down under the covers and rolling towards Merlin. Without speaking, Merlin turned away from Arthur, feeling strong arms wrap around his chest, Arthur's breath tickling the back of his neck. He was asleep within moments, exhausted but content. 

 

 

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

The next morning, Merlin went to see Gwen as soon as possible, heart in his throat. He rapped on her chamber doors, nervously bouncing on his toes as he waited for her to appear. The door swung open, Gwen's face visible through the crack.

"Merlin!" She exclaimed happily. "Come in!"

Opening the door wider, she pulled him into a hug. As she drew back she grabbed his face, inspecting his healing cheek. Satisfied, she let him go, moving to sit at the table and gesturing for him to do the same.

"What's going on? I know you said that you were captured by mercenaries, but I know you Merlin. That's not what you want to talk about."

Merlin ducked his head, cheeks heating. "You're right Gwen. There's-something I want to tell you."

Gwen reaching across the table and took his hand, looking at him earnestly. "You can tell me anything Merlin. You know that."

He nodded, biting his lip. He took a deep breath, deciding to just say it. "I have magic," he blurted out, the words leaving him in a rush. He prepared himself for Gwen to let go of his hand, shocked and hurt. Instead he felt warm fingers enveloping his, Gwen looking at him with a soft smile.

"I know," she said gently. 

It was Merlin's turn to be shocked. She knew? This was the second time in two days he'd revealed his magic only to learn that the other knew. It was, quite frankly, upsetting.

"You knew?" he questioned. "Why didn't you say anything?"

She squeezed his hands. "I wanted you to tell me when you were ready. I didn't know for sure, not until recently, but I think a part of me always knew."

Merlin felt unbalanced but profoundly relieved. Even more than Arthur, it was Gwen's opinion he valued. She had been his first and best friend, and the thought of her hating him had hurt deep inside. He exhaled, feeling tears prick at his eyes. 

"You're amazing Gwen, you know that right?" he said.

She laughed, warm and open. "I think it is you who is amazing Merlin. Or should I say..Emrys?"

Merlin stared. "How did you know that?"

Gwen's lips quirked. "You've always been there, by Arthur's side. Who else could it be? There were too many unexplained instances over the years, I had to put it together at some point. When Arthur told me about Emrys, it just fit." She shrugged.

"You're absolutely brilliant, Gwen," Merlin said. 

She laughed. "Thank you, but I don't feel it. I can't believe I didn't figure it out sooner. It was you who cured my father, wasn't it?"

Merlin nodded, cringing at the thought of his well-intentioned act that had nearly killed Gwen.

"And the sword. I knew I recognized Arthur's sword. I gave you that sword when the black knight was here, and then Uther used it to slay the knight. Then, somehow, it ended up in solid rock and Arthur pulled it free on some wild story about Bruta."

Merlin chuckled. "That wasn't very believable, was it?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, Merlin. Oh, and the lamia! You didn't fall under her spell, and she looked at you like you were the enemy. And when I was fighting Morgana after she had taken Camelot, something blasted her off her feet. Seconds later, you came running around the corner. Not very subtle." She shot Merlin a humorous look.

They were both laughing now, Merlin impressed with how easily Gwen put the dots together. But then, she always had known him better than almost anyone. He sighed, sobering. 

"I should have told you sooner. You're such a good friend, and I've been lying to you for ten years." He swallowed.

Gwen shook her head. "No Merlin, I understand. I do wish you'd have come to me sooner, but I understand why you couldn't. Arthur had to come first."

"He always comes first," he sighed. "But you are my dearest friend Gwen, and the best person I have ever met. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

She smiled, tears in her eyes. "Well I'm glad you're telling me now. The other reason I realized...is because of how you've changed, Merlin. You've been drifting away for years," she whispered. "I could see that something was wrong, that you were hurting, but you wouldn't tell me. I kept wondering what had happened to you to make you that way." She gulped, looking tortured. "I kept thinking about Morgana."

Merlin froze, heart clenching. Gwen saw his expression and hurried on, her face pleading.

"No, Merlin-I know it was wrong, I know you would never do that but Merlin-understand that I loved Morgana. She was good and kind and she still turned into...she still betrayed us. And you were becoming cold and angry and distant and I wondered if this was my fault somehow, if everyone I loved was going to leave me. But I'm sorry, I know you're not her. I should never have thought that." She gripped Merlin's hands, tears starting to spill down her face. "Please, forgive me, Merlin."

His heart squeezed and he leaned forward, catching her eyes. "There's nothing to forgive, Gwen. You were right. The only difference between me and Morgana is that I would never betray Camelot or Arthur. But it's not your fault. I'm so sorry that I haven't been letting you in. I had become so bitter and so full of anger, and so used to lying that it became habit. I still feel that way. Sometimes I feel so full of emotion that I think I could explode, and other times I feel so empty it terrifies me."

He took a trembling breath, hands squeezing Gwen's so hard it must have hurt. She was crying silently, tears streaming down her face as she stared at Merlin sadly.

He forged ahead. I've done things-terrible things Gwen, and I'm not so sure I'm a good person anymore. I'm not sure I deserve forgiveness, or love, or everything that you and Arthur have given me. And I know that things are supposed to be better, that Arthur is lifting the ban on magic and you both accept me and I should be happy, but there's just...too much. Too much death and blood and suffering and I'm just so tired, Gwen. I'm so tired."

He broke down into tears, sobs ripped harshly from his chest.

"Oh Merlin." Gwen stood up, coming around the table to wrap her arms around Merlin as he sobbed into her embrace. She stroked the top of his hair soothingly, saying nothing as she just continued to hold him. He cried harder than he had in a long time, releasing all his pent up emotions into her gentle hold. When the sobs finally subsided he felt drained but somehow whole, like an infected wound that had been lanced. He exhaled, his body releasing all its tension until he felt almost boneless. Finally, Gwen pulled back, cupping his face with her hands as she brushed away his tears. He looked back at her, feeling strangely calm and at peace as he gave her a small smile.

"There he is," she said softly. "There's my Merlin." She pressed a hand to his chest. "He's still in here. You just have to find him again."

She brushed a hand through his hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Thank you for telling me. You need to get those feelings out, or they will eat you up from the inside."

"I know," Merlin croaked. "I feel much better."

"I'm sure," Gwen said. "Keeping all that bottled up must have been painful. But you have to keep telling me these things, okay Merlin? Or if not me, then someone at least. You can't keep doing what you've been doing."

He nodded reluctantly. "I'll try, I promise. It's just hard when I'm so used to keeping secrets."

"I know," Gwen replied. "I know. But I'll help you. You're not alone anymore."

She grabbed his hand. "You're not alone."

 

By the time Merlin left Gwen's chambers it was just past noon, Gwen and he having eaten lunch while they kept talking. He felt light, like the darkness that had been slowly staining his heart had been scrubbed away, leaving it raw and red but clean. He made his way to the armory, where he knew Arthur was going to gather the knights after training to tell them of Merlin's magic. He felt better about this reveal, knowing that Arthur and Gwen already accepted him. While he was friendly with the knights, there wasn't the depth of love and friendship that he shared with Arthur and Gwen. Mordred already knew about him, and he doubted Gwaine would have a problem with it, although he would be put out that Merlin hadn't told him. And Lancelot....Merlin already knew how he would react. But it was different, Lancelot knowing now instead of for ten years previously. He had first found out when Merlin killed the griffin, cementing their budding friendship and creating a secret to bond over in the years to follow. He had always been Merlin's confidante, helping him with his secret missions and talking about his magic. Since Lancelot had returned Merlin had been avoiding him, not wanting to feel the pain of having one of his closest friends forget the most important thing about him. Even if he knew now, their friendship would never be the same.

Merlin ducked through the doorway just as the knights were coming in from training, Gwaine stopping to ruffle Merlin's hair as he passed. He heard Mordred before he saw him, a  _"Hello, Emrys,"_ ringing through his mind. Merlin grinned despite himself, leaning against the wall as the rest of the knights filed in.

_"Hello, Mordred,"_ he replied.  _"How was training?"_

_"Training was fine. Is something going on?"_

_"Where to start? Arthur found out about my magic a couple days ago. Now he's having me tell the knights as well before he lifts the ban."_

_"That's great!"_ Mordred enthused.  _"How did he take it?"_

_"Surprisingly well. Apparently he already knew."_  Arthur walked into the room, glancing over at Merlin before sitting on the bench. Merlin moved to help him, undoing the buckles on his armor. _"But that's a story for another time."_

_"Very well,"_ Mordred replied. " _But this is amazing. Everything is coming together. The time of the Once and Future King is finally dawning."_ He turned, smiling at Merlin from across the room.

Arthur glanced between them from his spot on the bench, looking confused. "Okay, I know I'm not imagining this. What the hell are you and Mordred doing? Is it some sort of weird magic telepathy?"

Merlin burst out laughing, Mordred joining in. The rest of the knights looked bewildered, looking between Merlin and Mordred in confusion before settling on Arthur. Gwaine was mouthing  _magic telepathy_ like he had discovered something incredible.

Merlin got himself under control before turning to Arthur. "Er, actually yes. It's called mind-speech."

"Mind-speech," Arthur repeated, sounding dubious. "Of course."

Leon hesitantly piped up. "Sire, did you say magic telepathy?"

"Ah yes," Arthur said. "That was actually what I wanted to talk to you all about today."

"You wanted to talk to us about magic telepathy?" Gwaine asked confusedly. "I mean, I could definitely see the uses."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, I didn't want to talk about magic telepathy. Er, 'mind speech,'" he corrected, glancing at Merlin. "I wanted to talk to you about magic. I mean about Merlin. Right. Anyway." He gestured at Merlin. "Merlin?"

"Oh, right. Well, I have magic."

There was a moment of silence. Then-"Right, obviously. But what were you saying about magic telepathy? Cause I'm really seeing all sorts of benefits to having that. I'm talking battle strategy, communication, fun...." Gwaine trailed off, realizing everyone was looking at him incredulously. "What?" he asked.

" _What?"_ Elyan said. "What? Merlin just told us he has magic!"

Gwaine looked at Elyan like he was very slow. "Yeah but like, everyone knew that." He looked around at the shocked and bewildered faces of his fellow knights. "Right?"

_Of course Gwaine knew,_ Merlin thought.  _Every single person I've told has somehow already known._ The rest of the knights shook their heads. Gwaine looked taken aback. "You mean no one else figured it out? Its so obvious!"

"What do you mean?" Percival asked. "I had no idea."

Gwaine stared. "The falling tree branches, the tripping bandits, every unexplainable stroke of luck that happens when Merlin is right there. Plus the fact that he comes with us literally everywhere, without any armor, and is still alive? You'd have to be blind not to notice it." He turned to Merlin. "Mate, you were flinging plates with your mind when I first met you. Not exactly subtle. Besides, there was the whole 'Courage, Magic, Strength' thing on that quest that we.." Arthur glared at him. "definitely did  _not_ go on."

Merlin sighed. Of course Gwaine knew. And he was right. Merlin hadn't exactly been subtle all these years. He honestly had no idea how none of the other knights even suspected. He supposed they had been blind to magic, even when it was under their noses.

The knights were looking thoughtful now. Arthur had probably already told them that he was changing the laws on magic, but it was another thing to know a sorcerer personally for years. Mordred was smiling at Merlin encouragingly, and Arthur was looking at Gwaine in consternation. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm sure this is a surprise to many of you. Just know that Merlin is loyal to Camelot and me, and has my complete trust." He clapped Merlin on the shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Any questions?"

Gwaine's hand flew in the air, his face speaking of a sudden thought. Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose again, looking exasperated. "Yes, Sir Gwaine?"

"You said that Merlin and Mordred were doing the magic telepathy thing. Does that mean Mordred has magic too?"

All the knights turned to Mordred, identical expressions of surprise on their face.

Mordred nodded. "Yes, I have magic. I am a Druid. It is how I recognized Merlin when I first came to Camelot."

"What do you mean?" Leon asked. "Can you sense other sorcerers?"

Mordred shook his head. "No, not normally. But Merlin is..different." He looked across the room to Merlin.  _"Do you want them to know that you're Emrys? I won't tell them if you don't."_

Merlin shrugged, nodding.  _"They should know. Go ahead and tell them."_

Gwaine was looking between them with mounting excitement. "You're doing it!" he exclaimed. "You're doing that magic telepathy thing!"

"Mind-speech," Mordred corrected. "But as I was saying, Merlin is different. He is not a sorcerer, in the general sense. He is magic itself. We druids call him Emrys, and there are many prophecies about him and Arthur. He is the most powerful sorcerer ever to walk this earth. I could sense him the minute I entered Camelot, and called out to him in mind-speech."

The knights were speechless, looking at Merlin with expressions ranging from admiration to fear. Merlin blushed under the weight of their stares, shifting uncomfortably.

Leon spoke up. "Well I for one am happy that Merlin is on our side." He looked Merlin in the eye. "You have kept Arthur safe all these years without asking for any praise or reward, risking your own life in the process. You are the equal of any knight of this realm, and I would be honored to stand by your side."

Merlin was speechless, unprepared for such high praise from Leon of all people. The other knights were nodding, looking at Merlin with respect.

"And I." Merlin looked up, meeting Lancelot's gaze. "You are the bravest of us all, and we never even knew. You are more than worthy of our respect."

Merlin had to fight the wave of grief that washed over him, hearing Lancelot's familiar words.  _You're the bravest of us all, and he doesn't even know._ He nodded his thanks, eyes shining.

"And I," Percival said. "You have always been loyal and just and kindhearted. Your magic changes nothing. I would be proud to stand with you."

"And I," Elyan said. "You have been more than a friend to Gwen, and more than a brother to us. We stand with you."

"And I." Gwaine looked serious. "You're the reason I'm here, Merlin. You gave me a home, somewhere I belonged, and I couldn't ask for a better friend. I'm afraid you're stuck with me." He grinned.

"And I,"Mordred said out loud. "My allegiance has always been with you, Emrys."

Merlin looked around at the circle of knights, each staring at him with admiration and loyalty in their eyes. He turned to meet Arthur's gaze, warm and full of pride. He had never felt so valued, so utterly recognized for who he was. His heart fluttered with hope. With the knights behind him he felt invincible, like he could level mountains with the strength of their vows. Whatever he and Arthur encountered, he knew they would be there to back him up, this group of noble, brave knights. This group of friends.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Midterms week was terrible. However, now I'm on spring break so updates will be coming much more frequently :)

Arthur fiddled with the buckles on his cloak, lost in thought. Today was finally the day of the Sarrum's arrival, and dread filled his stomach. Things had been going well lately after Merlin had gained the support of Gwen and the knights. They had made progress in researching magic and coming up with new laws that would account for the complexities of it. Merlin had had valuable input, and had even given Arthur and Gwen small displays of magic as the days wore on. Every time Arthur asked him to do some small form of magic, like light the fire or levitate his cloak, his whole countenance brightened with unabashed joy and his eyes sparkled with emotion. He hadn't slept in his own bed again, spending every night with Arthur as they further explored this new thing between them. Arthur thought that he had never been happier. The kingdom was flourishing, magic would be free, and Merlin was starting to shed the pain that had hung over him like a cloud. Today, however. Today was worrying.

"You're very quiet," Merlin remarked as he straightened Arthur's cloak. His hands lingered, smoothing down Arthur's shoulders in gentle paths.

Arthur scoffed, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Can you blame me?"

Merlin grimaced. "Sarrum does have a reputation."

"Even my father feared  him. They say he takes joy in impaling men." 

"Not just men," Merlin added grimly. "Women and children too. He also has a fondness for assassinating his friends."

"I doubt we'll ever be that close. Although we do share one thing-an enemy in Morgana."

"So you've heard the rumors," Merlin said hesitantly. "He once had her under lock and key."

"I'm hoping he'll tell us more," Arthur admitted.

Merlin took a breath, which told Arthur he was about to speak his mind. His voice was measured. "Given the Sarrum's reputation, are you certain it's wise to seek an alliance?" He buckled Arthur's vambraces with steady fingers.

Arthur sighed. "If we're to achieve peace in the five kingdoms, we've got little choice. I don't agree with his regime, Merlin, but dealing with him may be the only way of achieving our aims.

"I know," Merlin sighed. He handed Arthur his sword. "You're doing what's best for the kingdom." He gave Arthur a once over before nodding. "All set. Now come on, we're going to be late."

 

The Sarrum rode into the courtyard with arrogance, looking around him with an unsettling leer. Warrios in leather armor and helmets followed him on horseback,  others following on footwith cloth knotted around their heads. Sunlight glinted off weapons and buckles, the Sarrum's horde advancing with a menacing air.

Arthur stood at thebottom of the steps in front of a contingent of knights arranged in a v, Merlin by his right side. As the Sarrum grew closer he called out. "We are most grateful to the Sarrum for accepting our invitation; gracing our palace with his presence. We welcome him, and his warrior, with friendship."

His words rang through the courtyard, the Sarrum coming to a stop in front of him. The Sarrum sneered down at him. 

"The last time I met you, you were 10 years old," he said condescendingly. "Uther held a tournament in your honor."

Arthur kept his expression neutral. "I fight my own tournaments now."

"Well we shall enjoy putting you to the test." The Sarrum smirked.

 

The first part of the day went smoothly, the Sarrum and his men settled in and given a tour of the citadel. While the Sarrum was crude, Arthur could ignore it easily and didn't encounter any trouble. Finally it was time for the feast, the Sarrum's warriors eating at one table while Camelot's knights sat at another. The Sarrum himself sat to the left of Arthur, Gwen on his right. Merlin sat on Gwen's other side, while Lancelot was with the knights. They felt it was important to show the King and Queen as strong and united, as much as they hated to slight Merlin and Lancelot.

"I feel we have much in common," Arthur remarked, swallowing his revulsion. "We share many allies and friends. Also an enemy."

"Sorcery," the Sarrum replied with disgust.

Arthur gritted his teeth. "Not sorcery itself. Only those who use it for harm." He saw the Sarrum's face twist in surprise but hurried on. "There is a rumor-that you held Morgana prisoner." He stared intently at the Sarrum. "Is it true?"

"She's nothing to be feared," the Sarrum replied easily. "I kept her-like an animal."

Arthur felt something inside him shrivel, horrified, although he didn't let it show. He forged ahead. "How did you capture her? She's a sorceress, a high priestess."

The Sarrum raised his goblet to be refilled, licking his lips. "I found her weakness. Everyone has one, even a high priestess." He paused, lifting his drink to his mouth. "A young dragon."

Out of the corner of his eye Arthur saw Merlin stiffen, his hands clenching on the table. The Sarrum took a drink.

"Her love for that creature caused her to suffer more than she ever imagined possible. But not more than she deserved."

Arthur felt revulsion twist his gut at the Sarrum's cruelty. He had no love left for Morgana but no one deserved that.

The Sarrum looked thoughtful, malice glinting in his eyes. "I knew that she wouldn't dare to use magic against me, not while her beloved _creature_ was a risk of harm. Such a shame-" there was no sadness or compassion in his voice-"all that power, all that beauty, abandoned and forgotten in a living grave."

Arthur felt horrified. He saw Gwen look away, pain in her expression as she subtly grabbed Merlin's hand under the table. Arthur tried to collect himself, his mouth going dry. "You're a harsh judge, Lord Sarrum," he finally said, grateful his voice was steady.

"When it comes to sorcery, we must be merciless," the Sarrum replied. He shook his head. "I was not merciless enough. Morgana escaped. A lapse on my part. I'll not be so foolish again. Not that her time with me was entirely wasted." He grinned. "As the dragon grew, the pit became too small. Gradually the creature was crippled and twisted. At night you could hear its cries. They were even more heartbreaking than Morgana."

A chair scraped back loudly, causing Arthur to look to his right. Merlin had stood up, his face a mask of rage and hands clenched in trembling fists. The hall quieted, all eyes on him. Arthur could feel his heart thudding loudly in his chest, beating out a staccato tempo of fear.  _No,_ he wanted to say.  _Merlin, stop._ But he was frozen to his seat, shock and horror rendering him mute.

"You," Merlin snarled. "You did this to Aithusa."

Gwen stood up hurriedly, grabbing Merlin's arm. "I hope the Sarrum will forgive us if we retire for the night. It's been a long day," she said with a smile, the edges tight to Arthur's knowing eye.

The Sarrum was staring at Merlin with narrowed eyes, as if trying to figure something out. Finally he nodded, giving Gwen a vague smile. Arthur felt relief flood through him, barely resisting the urge to slump in his seat. Suddenly he wished he could follow Merlin and Gwen. He wished he were anywhere but here, here with this man who had told a tale of cruelty and torture and _smiled_. He felt sick inside, his body repulsed by the thought of sitting next to the Sarrum any longer. He took a drink to cover, the Sarrum thankfully falling quiet. He managed to spend the rest of the feast only exchanging small talk with the Sarrum, grateful when it finally ended. He bid the Sarrum good night and walked quickly back to his chambers, wanting to ask Merlin what the hell he had been thinking speaking out like that. When he got there, however, he found Merlin sitting hunched on the windowsill, his face a picture of anguish. He softened, going over to place a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"What happened in there?" he asked softly. 

Merlin hunched even more under his hand. "I just couldn't...I wanted to hurt him. He was the one that hurt Aithusa."

"The dragon?" said Arthur, confused. Suddenly it cleared. "You know the dragon. Right-you're a dragonlord."

Merlin swallowed. "I hatched her. I named her. She was my kin. I was supposed to take care of her and he-" his voice cracked "-and he ruined her." He was breathing unevenly, mouth pressed in a thin line.

Arthur wound his arm around Merlin's shoulders, pulling his face to his chest. Merlin collapsed into him, faint tremors going through his body.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't know. You shouldn't have had to listen to that."

He stroked his hand soothingly over Merlin's shoulder as he held him, feeling inadequate and guilty. He had invited this man here, who had tortured Morgana and crippled Merlin's dragon, thus hurting Merlin. He felt like he had done this to Merlin somehow, by his ignorance and acceptance of the Sarrum. _Merlin, or the kingdom?_ he thought. His head said one thing but his heart said another. His heart was being crushed by Merlin's pain, by knowing that this was his fault. Everything was his fault. Would he ever stop hurting Merlin? He thought desperately about how to fix this. 

He pulled Merlin back, grasping his face in his hands and looking into his eyes. "What do you want me to do, Merlin? Just say the word, and I'll make it happen. I don't care what it is."

Merlin looked back at him with a hint of awe in his eyes. "You would do that? You would sacrifice the good of the kingdom for me?"

Arthur nodded. "I would do anything for you, Merlin. Anything."

Merlin smiled, placing his hands over Arthur's. "And I you. But I can't let you do that. The kingdom must come first. All you have to do is sign the treaty with the Sarrum tomorrow and then he'll be gone. I'll be fine."

Arthur searched his eyes. "Are you sure?"

Merlin nodded. "Go be a king, Arthur, and I'll be right there by your side. Always."

Arthur smiled grimly. "Thank you Merlin. I promise, the Sarrum will be gone by tomorrow. Then, maybe..." he hesitated. "can you..call-whatever you do-your dragon? The Sarrum might have hurt her, but maybe we can help."

Merlin looked wary. "I-suppose. She's with Morgana now, but maybe..." He took a deep breath. "I can try."

Arthur smiled, giving Merlin a small shake. "We're going to make things better Merlin. I promise." He felt the promise to the very marrow of his bones. He would do whatever it took to make things better and maybe, finally, bring back Merlin's smile.  _I'll never hurt you again,_ he vowed.  _Never._

But some vows cannot be kept. 

 

 

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

The next morning was spent sparring with Amata's warriors while the Sarrum looked on, chuckling darkly. They were terrifying in their capabilities, throwing Arthur off balance and even beating him on one occasion. After training, Arthur bathed and ate lunch before dressing for the signing. He felt nervous but also excited, as the signing of the treaty would mark the start of a new era in Camelot and the five kingdoms. And then, finally, the Sarrum would be gone. 

They filed into the great hall, taking their places around the round table in the same order as the feast. Arthur looked over at Merlin, giving him a nod of support. He saw Gwen squeeze his hand, smiling warmly. The treaty was on the table in front of them, a quill waiting to be used. The Sarrum picked up the quill, looking over the parchment. He glanced at Arthur, giving him a sly smile and a grunt. Arthur could feel impatience clawing at his chest, fighting to remain calm and still. The Sarrum's eyes strayed to the ledge above the hall before flicking down to the treaty. He leaned down, the quill hovering over the parchment.

There was a whistle, followed by a  _thunk._ Arthur's head snapped to the right just in time to see Merlin's eyes widen, an arrow protruding from his chest. Time seemed to move in slow motion. Merlin looked surprised as he looked down, a hand slowly coming up towards his chest. Then, like a puppet with its strings cut he crumpled, eyes rolling back and a scream rending the air. Every window in the hall shattered simultaneously, the shards glittering in arcs through the air like a deadly rainstorm. Arthur was frozen in place, the rest of the hall in tumult. Merlin writhed on the ground, screaming as his eyes glowed gold. 

Arthur broke out of his trance, looking up at the ledge where a figure could be seen holding a crossbow. "Leon!" he barked, pointing at the figure. Leon took off with the knights behind him, Arthur running over to Merlin's side. He placed a hand on his chest, trying to hold him still.

"Merlin. Look at me."

But Merlin didn't appear to hear him, his teeth gritted in agony and eyes still a burning gold. Arthur suddenly had the niggling fear that this wasn't a normal arrow.

"I'd stay away from him," a voice said.

Arthur looked up to see the Sarrum, looking down at Merlin with a satisfied smirk. Realization rushed through him like a wave. 

"You did this," he said in disbelief.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the Sarrum replied. "But he's obviously a sorcerer. You should be thanking whoever shot that arrow."

"Thanking?" Arthur said incredulously. "I knew he was a sorcerer. He's on our side!"

"Sorcery is never on anyone's side," the Sarrum said indifferently. "Besides, you saw how he reacted to the tale of Morgana's imprisonment. He's obviously with her."

Arthur glared. "He is loyal to Camelot. Any reaction was due to your treatment of the dragon, who is innocent." Merlin was making choked screams from between clenched teeth, his face beaded with sweat and the gold in his eyes suddenly flickering. Arthur looked back up at the Sarrum. "What did you do to him?"

The Sarrum shrugged. "I didn't do anything. But if I had to guess-iron dust and Anjelica on the arrow. It affects those with magic, making it manifest and causing them some pain. Though I've never seen such a strong reaction. He must be very powerful indeed." He looked on at Merlin with a sick curiosity, Merlin's struggles growing weaker and his eyes starting to roll back in his head. Arthur wanted to vomit.

"Guards, seize him," he ordered. He turned to the Sarrum, hatred filling his gaze. "I'll deal with you later."

The Sarrum sputtered, obviously not expecting this reaction as he was dragged away by guards.

Gwen was suddenly there with Gaius. Arthur hadn't even noticed her leave but was glad for her initiative. Gaius looked horrified as he took in Merlin's state, who was barely conscious, eyelids fluttering over golden eyes and body limp.

"Quick, help me get him to my quarters," he said. Suddenly Mordred, Lancelot, and Gwaine reappeared, hefting Merlin's limp body between them.

"What happened?" Lancelot asked.

"He was shot with an arrow laced with iron dust and..Anjelica?" Arthur said. "Apparently it affects magic." They hurried down the hallway, the trip seeming twice as long as normal. Gwen's eyes were round with worry beside Arthur, skirts sweeping the floor as she jogged to keep up.

Gaius paled. "It was used by some in the days of the Purge to expose those with magic. Iron dust and Anjelica on a small cut and the person's magic would react, causing their eyes to change color and mild pain. Uther never used it because Anjelica can only be prepared with magic."

Arthur pondered this. Mild pain. Then why was Merlin reacting so strongly? He supposed it was something to do with the whole Emrys thing. He asked. "Gaius, why is Merlin responding like this?"

Gaius looked very old. "Merlin is magic itself. There is nowhere for it to go, so the mixture is literally poisoning him; he's being burned alive by his own magic. I fear what will happen if it is not gotten out of his system."

They reached Gaius's chambers, banging through the door and laying Merlin down on the patient bed, where he lay limp and unresponsive, small pained breaths escaping from clenched teeth.

Daegal was in the room already, gathering ingredients. He stopped when they came through the door, staring at Merlin in horror.

"Oh, gods," he said. "Merlin."

"Don't stop," Gaius snapped. "Quick, fetch me yarrow, valerian, and plantain. And some water and bandages." He grabbed scissors and turned to Merlin, cutting his shirt off around the arrow. Arthur was forcefully reminded of the last time this had happened, the bandit's leering face inches from Merlin's. 

As the shirt came away there was a collective gasp around the room, Gwen's hand flying to her mouth. Arthur knew what had partly grabbed their attention, having seen all of Merlin's scars in great detail. It was the other thing that drew his gaze completely, a sinking feeling in his stomach. The arrow was firmly embedded in Merlin's upper left chest, right above his heart. Creeping outwards from the wound was a spiderweb of black veins, a black substance mixing with blood as it flowed from the arrow. Gaius took this in with a grim expression. He turned to Arthur and the rest. 

"I need to get the arrow out. You'll have to hold him down."

Arthur steeled himself, feeling his hands shake. He had held down countless knights and soldiers as their wounds were treated and never faltered, but this was different. This was Merlin. He met the gaze of his knights, giving them a grim nod. Together, they moved forward until they stood on either side of Merlin. Arthur pressed down on his shoulder near the arrow, Lancelot taking the other one. Gwaine held his feet, and Gwen moved to place gentle hands on either side of Merlin's head. Mordred stood back.

"I'll make sure he doesn't hurt anyone with his magic," he said.

Arthur's first thought was that that was ridiculous, that Merlin would never hurt him. But then remembered the windows in the hall, and looked down at Merlin's pale face. Merlin would never forgive himself if he accidentally hurt Arthur.

He nodded at Mordred. "Thank you."

Gaius moved over, a cloth in his hand. He pressed down with one hand next to the arrow, the other hand grasping the shaft. "On three. One, two,  _three."_

The arrow came out with a sickening rip, blood and black poison flowing freely from the ragged hole in Merlin's chest. Merlin let out a muffled scream, thrashing against their hold and eyes glowing brighter before becoming still again, breaths coming in shallow pants. The group released their hold a bit, letting out an audible sigh as Gaius began to clean the wound. Arthur looked back at Mordred, who looked winded. Daegal came running with the medical supplies, passing them to Gaius as they worked in silence. The wound was cleaned with water and rags, then herbs mashed up and ground into it, the knights tightening their hold as Merlin fought them. Gaius then washed out the herbs with more water before repeating the process. The black was cleared out of the entry wound, but the veins continued to spread. Gaius looked desperate before whirling around to face Mordred.

"Mordred, I need your talents," he said. "We need to draw the poison out of Merlin but I'm afraid it is impossible without magic. Will you help?"

Mordred nodded eagerly, rushing forward. "Of course. I would do anything for Emrys."

Gaius sagged in relief. "Do you know a spell to do this?"

"Yes. I am much versed in healing, and think I can do this." He hesitated. "But if I do this then I cannot shield any of you from his magic."

Arthur had no intention of leaving. He looked around. "If anyone wants to leave do so now." He scanned each of the faces in the room. Lancelot stayed by Merlin's side, hand rested protectively on his shoulder. Gwaine glared at him defiantly as if daring him to make him leave. Gwen was stroking Merlin's hair and met Arthur's gaze evenly, not budging from her place. Gaius and Daegal stood resolutely by the bed, displaying no inclination to leave. Arthur felt a swell of pride.

"Go ahead, Mordred," he said. "We will gladly take that risk."

Mordred nodded then took a deep breath, his hands hovering over the wound. He began to chant, long strings of syllables punctuated by flashes of his eyes. Merlin twitched, then convulsed, writhing against their hold. Black veins pulsed around the wound, fighting Mordred's magic. Mordred's voice grew louder, tinged with effort. Arthur heard a soft rattle, then another. As he looked around, every object in Gaius's quarters was shaking as if in an earthquake, bottles falling off shelves to shatter against the floor. A wind caught Arthur's hair, whipping around the room like a maelstrom. Looking back down at Merlin, he saw the veins receding, black liquid pouring out of the wound and directed into a vial by Mordred. The shaking reached a crescendo, the occupants of the small room struggling to maintain their balance amid the onslaught. Then, suddenly, everything stopped. Mordred collapsed, a shaking hand clutching the table for support, the other gripping the vial now filled with poison. And Merlin lay still and lifeless on the table, a normal arrow wound in his chest. Arthur gave his shoulder a small shake.

"Merlin?" he questioned. Merlin didn't respond. His chest was still, no breaths passing through his lips. Arthur felt terror strike him. He shook Merlin again. "Merlin? Wake up." He turned to Mordred in horror. "You killed him!" Some rational part of him whispered that Mordred was just trying to help, but the terror that consumed him at seeing Merlin laying lifeless overtook all thought. 

Mordred set the vial on the table, holding up a placating hand. "He needs to regenerate now that the poison is out. Immortal, remember?"

Arthur let out a relieved breath, suddenly feeling like an idiot. "Right, of course. I apologize, Mordred." 

"No apology necessary," Mordred replied. "I understand."

As Arthur looked down at Merlin he could already see the wound beginning to heal, the edges receding until it looked like a week-old injury. He saw the knights and Gwen lean forward over Merlin in curiosity and remembered Merlin's horror and discovering his immortality the last time.

"Give him some space," he ordered sharply. "He's probably going to be confused and disoriented when he wakes up, and I'll not have any of you scaring him out of his wits."

The knights backed up obligingly with wide eyes. "Immortal, eh?" said Gwaine. "That's got to come in handy."

Arthur glared at him. "I don't think Merlin finds anything 'handy' in being killed multiple times, Sir Gwaine." He surveyed the group. "I forbid any of you from asking Merlin about this or even mentioning it, understood?"

They all nodded hastily, Lancelot looking solemn while Gwen had tears in her eyes. Lancelot finally spoke.

"Gwaine, Mordred, how about we come back later to see how Merlin is doing?" he said meaningfully.

Arthur felt a surge of gratitude towards him. As much as they were his friends Merlin would be overwhelmed by all the people in the room when he awoke.

Daegal piped up. "I'm going to go find some more herbs to help his recovery if that's alright with you Gaius."

Arthur saw Gaius give him a grateful look. "Certainly, my boy. I would very much appreciate that."

The knights and Daegal filed out of the room, leaving Gaius, Gwen, and Arthur with Merlin. Arthur could see how affected Gaius was although he tried not to show it, quickly bandaging the wound with trembling hands. Arthur and Gwen each grabbed a knocked-over stool and placed it on either side of Merlin, sitting down as they waited. They didn't have long to wait.

Scarcely five minutes after he had 'died,' Merlin suddenly gasped, his eyes shooting open. They were filled with terror, darting around the room in disoriented confusion. Arthur grabbed his hand.

"Merlin," he said. "Merlin, it's alright. You're in Gaius's chambers."

Merlin's breathing steadied, his eyes finding Arthur's. "Arthur?' he croaked. "Wha' happened?" He looked over, seeing Gwen. "Gwen?" Gaius came to stand by Merlin's head, looking down with fondness. Merlin squinted upwards. "Gaius? Wha-?"

Gwen extended a hand, brushing Merlin's sweaty fringe away from his forehead. "You were shot, Merlin. But everything's okay now."

Merlin suddenly froze as he seemed to recall the events of the day. His free hand shot up to touch his chest, craning his neck to look down. He took in the partially healed wound, suddenly slumping back against the table and expression going blank. "I died," he said flatly.

Gwen and Arthur exchanged a helpless look before turning to Gaius. He looked just as lost, immeasurable sadness filling his gaze as he looked down at Merlin. He patted a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"Yes, my boy. We managed to get the poison out, but the wound was severe. Your body needed to heal itself."

Merlin nodded despondently then looked curious. "Poison? Is that what that was?"

Gaius nodded serenely. "Poison to you." Merlin looked confused and Gaius elaborated. "Iron dust and Anjelica. It is supposed to reveal magic and cause sorcerers some discomfort as their magic reacts. Of course, you are unique, so it had a much stronger effect on you."

Merlin looked thoughtful. "So that's why I felt like I was being burned alive."

Arthur saw Gwen's face blanch across from him, feeling quite queasy himself. Merlin's screams had spoke of extreme pain, but to hear it so openly... 

He cleared his throat. "Well, the important thing is that Mordred got it out. You're going to be fine."

"Mordred?" Merlin looked quizzical. "He's not a physician."

Gaius interjected. "It took magic to draw it out." He held up the vial on the table, filled with the black substance. "He managed to get all of it out; an impressive feat I must say."

Merlin looked at the small vial with an expression of revulsion. "I'll have to thank him, then. I owe him my, well-not life but-" he trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.

"I'll tell him to come see you," Arthur promised. "Gwaine and Lancelot would also love to see you now that you're...awake." He swallowed.

"Oh." Merlin's face looked surprised. "Right, of course. Wait-oh gods." He looked around the room, which looked like someone had ransacked it. Bottles and vials lay smashed on the floor, chairs tipped over and books strewn around the room. Merlin looked horrified. "What did I do? Oh-the hall windows. Oh gods."

Arthur lay a soothing hand on Merlin's shoulder. "It's okay. No one was hurt. You didn't mean to."

Merlin just stared at him in horror. "That's the problem! I didn't mean to, but I still did!" He closed his eyes, looking pained. "And everyone knows now."

Gwen and Arthur exchanged another look. "It's okay Merlin. They had to find out eventually. Besides, the knights are all on your side. And you've got us," Gwen said, squeezing Merlin's hand. 

Merlin said nothing, looking miserable. Gwen shot Arthur a look that said  _say something to him, you idiot._ Arthur complied.

"Merlin, don't be an idiot. Everyone likes you, for some unfathomable reason. They're going to be furious at the person responsible for doing this, not you."

He could see Gwen's disapproval at his choice of words but he knew that sometimes lighthearted insults were the only way to get through to Merlin. Sure enough, he saw Merlin's lip twitch at the familiar banter. 

"Who did shoot me?" Merlin asked. "Obviously they knew I have magic, but why, and how?"

Arthur grimaced. "It was the Sarrum. He must have hired someone. He obviously somehow found out about your magic, helped by your reaction to his story about Morgana and the dragon. He said he had nothing to do with it, but I don't believe that."

Merlin looked murderous. "He probably thought that if he outed me you would forget about signing the treaty. Slippery bastard."

Arthur thought about this. It made perfect sense. The Sarrum probably found out about Arthur's trusted advisor being a sorcerer and thought he could use it to his advantage. He could claim he had no idea, and was probably counting on Arthur hating magic as much as his father. Arthur would be broken by the betrayal of a trusted friend, allowing the Sarrum to manipulate him. Arthur would execute Merlin, leaving Camelot's defenses weak, and the Sarrum would swoop in to take Camelot.

He looked Merlin in the eye. "Or maybe he knew that without you, Camelot would have fallen long ago. We need you, Merlin. I need you."

He took Merlin's hand, the other already held by Gwen. Gaius rested a wrinkled hand on Merlin's shoulder, his gaze soft. Arthur couldn't believe Merlin still didn't know how much he was loved. He knew that he, or Gwen, or Gaius, or any of the knights would lay down their life for Merlin, and yet Merlin still thought so little of himself. Merlin was Camelot's heart, who made everyone he met fall in love with his endearing smile and selfless nature. Arthur knew that if Merlin were to fall all of Camelot would fall with him. He would fall with him. He was selfishly glad Merlin was immortal, so that he would never have to lose him. He didn't think he could survive that.  _Never leave me,_ his heart demanded with every beat.  _Never._

 

He would get his wish. Merlin would never leave him. But someday, Arthur would leave Merlin.

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Trying to work out the last plot kinks as we approach the end. Thanks for your patience and for reading.

Merlin woke the next day feeling sore but healed. His chest was still bandaged, the healing arrow wound just another addition to his collection of scars. He was still in the patient bed in Gaius's chambers, as he had been too weak to move the day before. He had finally managed to convince Arthur and Gwen to go back to their duties after he had been awake a few hours, both protesting loudly. He had grumbled that he wouldn't get better any faster with them watching him, and they might as well actually run the kingdom in the meantime. Arthur had just rolled his eyes before getting up and jabbing a finger in his direction with a "if I've found you've moved an inch from this bed I will shoot you again," that Merlin promptly ignored. Exhausted from his ordeal and still healing he had fallen asleep shortly after, his dreams full of whistling arrows and shattered windows.

He eased himself up carefully on his elbows, feeling the wound in his chest twinge painfully. Sunlight was shining through the small windows in the physician's quarters, reflecting off of various vials scattered around. The broken glass and knocked over objects had been cleaned up by Daegal yesterday, Merlin feeling a stab of guilt as he had surveyed the destruction he had wreaked. Now there was no evidence that anything had happened besides a distinct shortage of vials. Gaius was nowhere to be seen, probably doing rounds in the lower town. Although...what time was it? Merlin stared in confusion at the bright sunlight streaming through the window. It definitely wasn't early morning. Suddenly the door opened and Daegal came through, stopping in surprise when he saw Merlin. A grin broke across his face, striding in the room to set down the tray of food he was carrying.

"You're awake!" he exclaimed. "How are you feeling?"

Merlin shrugged, sitting up and swinging his feet around until they hit the floor. "I'm okay." He started to get up, swaying on his feet as blood rushed to his head.

Daegal rushed over to steady him, grabbing his arm as his head cleared. Merlin scowled, hating his weakness. He gently shrugged Daegal away, taking slow steps around the room until he felt more stable.

"What time is it?" he asked, venturing over to the window. The sun was high in the sky, the sky blue and cloudless.

"It's noon," Daegal replied. "You've been asleep for a long time. We were getting worried." His eyes traced Merlin's progress around the room with barely concealed concern.

Merlin waved a hand. "I guess that stuff really took it out of me." His magic felt unsettled and far away, a blankness where usually he felt warmth. He tried a small amount of magic, something easy and instinctive. He focused on one of the vials, willing it to float. For a second the vial lifted in the air before it crashed back down, Merlin feeling like he had just run a league. He rested a hand on the table, wheezing as black spots danced in front of his eyes. Daegal rushed over, eyes alarmed.

"What happened?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I tried to do magic but it's like it's barely there, and even trying makes me exhausted."

Daegal's face was worried. "Maybe it's the after-effects of the poison."

"Maybe," Merlin said thoughtfully. He hoped that was all it was. "Where's Gaius? He would know."

"He's gone to treat a broken arm in the lower town, but he'll be back soon. He left me to watch over you but I just went to get some food. Want some?"

Merlin nodded, suddenly aware that he was starving. He made it over to the table, sinking down gratefully in a chair as Daegal sat opposite him. He tucked into the plate with relish, some of the lightheadedness vanishing as he ate. Just as they were finishing up Gaius came through the door, his face lighting up when he saw Merlin.

"Merlin, my boy, you're awake! How are you feeling?" He set his medicine bag on the table, studying Merlin with a practiced eye before shuffling forward to prod at the bandages around his wound.

"I'm fine, Gaius, it's nearly healed," he protested. "It's my magic I'm worried about."

Gaius drew back, his brows furrowing. "Your magic? What about it?"

"I tried to do a spell when I woke up and barely anything happened and I felt dizzy. I can't feel it anymore. It's like it's gone." 

Gaius frowned. "It can't be gone, Merlin. That's impossible. But maybe the poison affected you more than I thought."

"But what does it mean?"

Gaius looked troubled. "I don't know. I know through some methods sorcerers can be stripped of their magic, but you're not just a sorcerer. It's possible that the poison took all your extra magic, and you only have enough to keep you alive."

Merlin felt horror steal over him. "But will it come back?"

Gaius shook his head. "That I cannot say. I can only hope that with time and rest it will eventually recover."

Merlin nodded glumly, hoping that Gaius was right. Gaius gave him a sympathetic look before turning to Daegal.

"Now, Daegal, go see if you can find Arthur. He said he wanted to know the minute Merlin was up." Daegal nodded, swallowing his last mouthful before darting off through the door.

Merlin and Gaius finished the meal before Daegal returned, Arthur in tow. He strode through the door, eyes darting around the room worriedly before they settled on Merlin. A broad smile grew across his face, his eyes softening.

"Merlin, you're up! Been having a bit of a lie-in?" His tone was teasing, eyes fond. "I had to have George wake me up this morning." He shuddered, lowering his voice to a mock whisper as he drew nearer. "Never do that to me again." He stopped right in front of Merlin, his eyes searching out the bandage visible under his shirt.

"How are you feeling?" he asked seriously. 

"I'm fine," he replied. "Just tired." He took a breath. "And my magic is kinda...gone."

Arthur looked surprised. "I didn't know that could happen," he said. "Aren't you, like, made of magic?" 

Merlin shrugged. "I guess. I'm alive, but I can't do any magic right now."

Arthur looked thoughtful. "Huh. And there's no way to fix it?"

Merlin shrugged again. Gaius suddenly staightened up, a gleam in his eye. "Aha! That's it. Merlin, I think I know a way to get your magic back."

Merlin felt a spark of hope stir in his heart. "Really? What is it?"

"The Crystal Cave. The birthplace of magic itself. If you want answers, that is where you should go."

Merlin's eyes widened. The Crystal Cave. Why hadn't he thought of that? He grinned, hope fluttering in his chest. "Yes, of course! Thank you Gaius."

"Where is this Crystal Cave?" Arthur interjected.

"It resides in the Valley of the Fallen Kings," Gaius replied gravely. "Merlin will need protection if he's to make it there safely."

"I'll go with him," Arthur immediately said.

"Arthur, you're the King. I can't risk your life like that," Merlin said. "I can't protect you without my magic."

Gaius nodded. "Merlin is right. We cannot afford to lose you. If you have to go, at least take someone else with you."

Arthur nodded grudgingly. "I'm sure one of the knights would come as well."

"At least two others," Merlin said firmly. "I will not have you in any danger."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Alright,  _two_ knights? Happy?"

Merlin quirked an eyebrow. "Very. When can we leave?

Arthur thought for a moment. "How about tomorrow morning? I don't know how long it'll take."

Merlin nodded. "Sounds good." Suddenly a thought struck him. "Wait, what happened to the Sarrum and the man who shot me?"

Arthur grimaced. "We couldn't prove that he had ordered the attack, and the assassin was killed when the knights apprehended him. The only thing to do was to make him sign the treaty so he couldn't harm Camelot. He left this morning." He looked at Merlin, eyes regretful. "I wish I could make him pay for what he did, but I can't without causing a war. I'm sorry Merlin."

Merlin nodded. "I understand. You don't have to explain yourself to me. I'm just glad he's gone." He shot Arthur a small smile and Arthur returned it, face relieved.

Gaius got up. "Here, let me change your bandages before you leave." Daegal scuttled to get the medical supplies as Merlin obediently stripped off his shirt, the motion pulling at his chest. Gaius removed the old bandages, the wound underneath almost healed. He smeared it with more salve, bandaging it again efficiently. Merlin pulled his shirt back on, feeling Arthur's eyes on him.

"I think Gwen and the knights will be very happy to hear you're awake. Can you make it to our chambers?" Arthur asked.

Merlin felt something warm curl inside him.  _Our chambers._ "Yes," he said snippily as he heaved himself out of his chair, "I can make it. I'm not totally useless."

"Good, because I'm not carrying you," Arthur replied. "You're heavier than you look."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Is this because I called you fat?"

"I am not fat!" Arthur protested. Merlin rolled his eyes, giving Gaius and Daegal a cheery wave as they left. Despite Arthur's light tone his eyes were concerned as he walked slowly next to Merlin, hovering like he could fall down at any moment. Merlin felt a mixture of fond annoyance at his overprotectiveness. When they got to  _their_ chambers Merlin sat down heavily at the table, frustrated by his exhaustion.

"I'll be back," Arthur said. "Gwen will be furious if she doesn't see you as soon as possible."

He swept out of the room, Merlin sagging in the chair. Barely a minute later he was back, Gwen almost running across the room towards Merlin. He stood up, Gwen enveloping him in a tentative hug, careful of his chest. She pulled back to look at him, frowning as she took in his appearance. She clucked her tongue.

"You're still far too pale, Merlin. How are you feeling?" Merlin was getting quite used to that question.

"I'm alright, Gwen," he said. "My magic is kind of gone but we're going tomorrow to try and get it back."

"Gwen pulled out a chair as he sat back down, moving it so she was facing him. "What do you mean your magic is gone?"

"I don't know. But I can't use it. Apparently the poison did something to me."

"But you can get it back, right?"

He nodded. "I think so. We're going to the Crystal Cave tomorrow. It's the birthplace of magic. If anything will give me answers, it's there."

She smiled, taking his hand. "I hope so. For all our sakes."

 

 


End file.
